


Sharlayan's Forbidden Desires

by Kuchizuke_Megitsune



Series: Sharlayan's Forbidden Desires [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Demonic Possession, Drama & Romance, Intrigue, Investigations, Other, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 85,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuchizuke_Megitsune/pseuds/Kuchizuke_Megitsune
Summary: A young Elezen woman begins her journey to the newly opened "Great Gubal Library", where incredible feats of knowledge are kept from civilizations past.  Her thirst for knowledge, however, becomes far more than she bargained for...As she succumbs to a great power, this initiates a set of events that threaten those entwined in her former life, and eventually, all of Eorzea.  Can the Dravanian Occult Society get one step ahead and prevent a battle looking to challenge the very existence of man?Update:2/27 - 247 views total (+10!) - In perhaps my shortest chapter, I aim to be concise and move as much as I can, as fast as I can.  There is a LOT of goings-down on the way, and I wanted all the preparations to come barreling in.  Quite literally, in the case of this chapter.Seems a storm is brewing in Ishgard.  It's going to get bloody.More on THAT later.As a reminder, this work's official home is www.kuchizukewrites.com - if you do enjoy what you see, consider stopping by and subscribing. :)Thank you so, so much for your support. I love you all.  I am beside myself I have come this far, and have so much left to go.





	1. Sharlayan's Forbidden Desires

_It was only her duty as a Scholar to learn.  To acquire whatever knowledge betters Eorzea, for the sake of all.  She never knew... what lied within that tome would change her forever..._

The Great Gubal Library - a wealth of knowledge tucked away comfortably within the breast of The Ruling Quarter's mountainside in Dravania.  Long abandoned by the Sharlayan, since Foundation had re-opened it's wrought gates, adventurers had long sought to understand the boundless knowledge within.  This knowledge, however came with great danger, as time had festered unspeakable evils spewing from magicked tomes, lest the natural dangers seeking shelter from Coerthas' piercing cold.

She was no exception.  A young elezen scholar, she naturally felt at home braving the harsh climate that surrounded Idyllshire.  As the dawn's light stretched across the dense vegetation overtaking the now-abandoned once-glorious city, she stood at the city limits, looking toward her destination south.  Her glasses glistened from the dew's reflection in the tall grass.  She donned typical scholar attire, layered deep blue flowing garb that made clear her pursuits as a disciple of magic.  Most obvious was her height - though she was an average elezen woman, her race naturally stood taller than most, save the Roegadyn.  Her auburn hair caught a light breeze, and despite being in a tight ponytail, still tossed freely at the playful chill running past.  Most notable of her status, however, was the light greenish blue fairy that fluttered nearby, eyeing the terrain with a similar curiosity.  The elezen inhaled deeply with a heartfelt smile on her face, and looked to her left, meeting eyes with her companion, who continued to flutter at head's height to her.

"This is the day!" She said, barely containing her excitement.  She clenched her fists and bit her lip.  "We are but a short distance from the library, Eos!  Just think - today we discover incredible history of Eorzea, who knows what we will be able to decipher for our brothers and sisters!" Her naivete bursting forth due to her excitement was palpable.  "The library has so much to give us - let us not waste another moment!" With that, she recovered a silver whistle on a leather string from a pouch on her side and blew into it.  A pleasant high-pitched tone filled the air, and moments later a bright blue chocobo raised its head from a grazing herd nearby, warking loudly, and came to the woman's side in a few large strides.  She smiled, raising a hand and nuzzling its beak.  After a moment of greeting, she walked to its side, placing the dark, weathered heel of her boot into a stirrup the bird wore upon it's saddle, and she lept on.

She leaned forward, and the bird began it's stride in full.  Laughing, she took in the expanse as they journeyed to The Great Gubal Library, the wind at their back, the sun rising still into the bright blue sky.

Hardly an hour into travel, they worked around a fallen stone bridge to the other side, and as they climbed a last set of stairs, the towering structure came into view.  The sheer size of the structure was worthy of the young elezen's eagerness - the library itself must be above ground something of 40 stories, not to mention how deep into the mountain the structure extended, or how far below.  It would take many lifetimes to even comprehend the scale of the structure alone.  This left her speechless as she yielded the chocobo to stay a moment for her to take in the view in awe.

She approached the structure, eyeing a few equally anxious adventurers making small talk and forming small parties to ensure safety within the unspeakable dangers within by way of huddling near small bonfires to relieve some of the chill the mountain area brought with its terrain.  Talk was open, and there was light bustle all around.  Between the sellswords offering their shields to provide respite, the mages already discussing their findings, and those yet still to obtain knowledge discussing strategy to tackle the deep caverns within the stone doors... the outer courtyard was rather lively.  The elezen was glad to see her peers engaged in the same pursuits as her.  Within the library could be the very breakthrough that subdues primals, that disarms the Garleans, that holds dragons at bay... left for her to find.  Throughout her appreciation of the atmosphere, she slowly walked towards the entrance, passing massive, gold-lined pillars that created the canopy over the entrance.

"Oi!  Where ye headin', lass?" a voice snapped her out of her daze of amazement.  Mere yalms from the open doors, a large roegadyn leaned against the flat, weathered stone wall, eyes fixated on her own.  She blinked uncomfortably at being addressed.

"A-aye? Within, ser.  As many are." she looked away, inside the doors, eager to see what was within.

The tall man, with short, greying hair and skin of obsidian, crossed his arms shaking his head.  His sword could be more clearly seen, shimmering with a rogue ray of sun that found it's way through the stone canopy.  He let out a mocking chuckle.  "Alone?  Truly daft ye are.  Ain't nothin but blood and body part coming out o' ere this day."

The elezen scoffed and wrinkled her face, slowly turning back to him.  "Hold your tongue!  I know the risks within.  There, inside..."

"Aye, aye, dun bore me with the smart-talk.  I ain' gon' dance around th' truth.  Ye need a blade, and a steady arm to cut the dangers inside.  Ye seem well enough along, the offer I give would be fair, lass, I recommend ye consider-"

"Hmph," the woman scoffed in return, closing her eyes and shaking her head.  Lifting a hand, the pressed one finger on the bridge of her nose and slowly slid her glasses up back into place.  "I've no use for such brutality.  I come in a way of peace, to seek knowledge."

"Ignorant, ye are." the gentleman grumbled.  "Dun' say I din' warn ye."  He looked away, already attempting to spot his next sales pitch for aid.  He didn't say another word.

After a silent moment, she stepped in the doors.  Inside, the bustle from outside quickly subsided, and her wonder was enhanced by what lie before her.  A large foyer with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, a ceiling which seemed to stretch beyond her range of vision... this foyer alone contained enough text for a lifetime!  "Glorious, Eos!  Look at-!" she was too stunned to speak.  Inside, there were still a few like her, buried in a pile of books.  The foyer seemed safe for the most part, as many were comparing notes on the large tables nearby, or buried in solace in the texts them self.  She felt at home.

Her senses continued to come alive in this palace of knowledge.  The scent of ink and print was more than likely overbearing to one who did not spend the lot of their life buried in text.  However, it was a familiar scent to her, something that brought her a sense of comfort, of peace.  The thin, lightly bitter mountain air seemingly enhanced the aroma to her.  She smiled to herself at the thought that sometime before, there must have been someone like her, admiring the complexity of a library though scent alone.  At least, she hoped so, lest she really be losing herself in her craft.

Upon closer inspection, her pointed ears picked up a variety of sounds as well as she walked a bit deeper into the foyer.  There was the occasional loud flip of a page, light murmurs of those immersed in the worlds within the text they have discovered, even escalating debates over discoveries already coming to light.  For someone who spent a great deal of time alone, the elezen felt a sense of belonging unknown to her until this moment.  She already knew she would look to spend a long time here.

She walked up to one bookshelf and extended her hand to lightly brush her fingertips against the aged, dusty spines.  She slowly walked along the shelf, running her hands across the books.  The bookshelf seemed to continue on and on, and she continued to walk and walk.  Once in a while, she would open a tome, just to see what might be contained within.  Many books contained research on the geography and inhabitants of Eorzea.  Monster, botany, even geology... it was all in such bulk that she instantly knew that there must be no secrets left, lest the lot of these texts be read and analyzed.

Just then, she heard a creak a set of shelves over.  She froze.  Eos stopped moving forward as well.  Her eyes slowly moved back and forth to analyze the hallway in front of her, and that's when she realized...

...she was no longer in the foyer.  She had no idea where she was, in truth.  There were windows in the basilica-like dome above, so it was obvious she was still in some sort of major room, but...

A large thud and audible cracking sound followed the creak.  She did the only natural thing she knew how without moving.

"H...hello..?"

Nothing.

"Is... is anyone there?"

She gazed at Eos, who was motioning toward the way they came in silence.  The elezen nodded and slowly moved one foot to turn back, when it got caught on a rogue tome that had broken free from the lot and fell to the floor.  She had no time to react, and she loudly tumbled to the floor, smacking against the cold marble.  She let out a light "Mmph!" as she impacted with the floor.

Just then, one aisle over, skittering of frantic claws could be heard with the cry of what sounded like a lupine creature.

And it didn't sound alone.  Whatever this beast was, it obviously was not alone, as the amount of claws meeting marble a mere wall of books away was clearly for more than one quadruped monster.

She reacted right away.  She lept to her feet and made a full sprint, passing corridor after corridor of bookshelves, which seemed to go on endlessly.  Just how lost was she?  Did she really wander past the safety of the foyer?  When!?

The claws continued to scatter behind her.  They were going to attempt a flank.  These were creatures learned in hunting within these walls.  No doubt they have a much greater grip of the geography of the place than her.  She swallowed hard and attempted misdirection.  She turned deeper into the library at an intersection of shelves, as she heard the creatures, based on their locations, cutting off the paths that led towards the outer walls of the massive room, no doubt cutting off escape.

She did not look back, continuing her fervent race of survival.  Suddenly, she came across the end of the room, blocked by two wooden doors side-by-side, which seemingly would swing open.  She took the chance and ran straight through them, toppling into the feeble wood, testing its wrought hinges.  They gave, and she burst through into a new room, upon quick inspection, was a small rectangular reading room.  Small chairs lined the outside of the room, the walls obviously even more bookshelves.  The room had an open exit on the other side.  Fighting the pain of impact, she stood quickly and continued her stride, still hearing her pursuers not far off.

The exit opened up onto a curved stone bridge, of which below was complete darkness.  Like other rooms, there were windows stories above her location, letting in rays of light that showed her path.  She continued the stride to cross the bridge when she felt her footing give.

The bridge groaned under her weight and began to crumble.  Large, uneven stones began to succumb to gravity and plummet below into the darkness.  Knowing it was now or never, she attempted to scramble to the other side of the bridge.  The attempt was futile, and halfway across the other side caved at once, and she tumbled into the darkness below.  As her inevitable descent took place, she turned in her struggles in mid-air.  Looking up, she could still see preying, beady, red eyes above salivating, sharp teeth gazing down at her.

In what she felt would be her last thought, she laughed at the idea of avoiding one death, only to find another...

_"You've arrived.  Come to me..."_

"N...nghh..." She groaned as she slowly came to her senses.  She squinted heavily with her eyes still shut, and started moving her arms, quickly feeling light stone debris covering her.  She opened one eye slowly, brushing the debris away from her robes and slowly sitting up.

_"Come to me..."_

"Ah-!" she felt a sharp pain sprint up her back, causing her to arch slightly and exhale sharply.  The fall had taken an obvious toll on her body, but she seemed to be well enough... She adjusted her seating, ensuring her legs were unaffected by the impact.  After quickly blinking a few times, she slowly worked to her feet, and examined her surroundings.  Eos was nowhere to be found.

The unexplained of the library continued even here.  She seemingly had broken through the roof of a small domed enclosure, a shrine of sorts, perhaps?  The room itself was actually illuminated... had someone been here?  There were candles with small, lively flames throughout the room.  She looked to the single entry besides the hole she made above - there was an obvious large iron bar preventing the only entrance from being opened, far too heavy for someone of her stature to lift, and it was on the inside of the enclosure, meaning.. no one could have gotten in.  So how did these candles...?

_"Secrets... you seek enlightenment?"_

Surprised, she turned again, and her eyes darted throughout the room.  "Wh...who's there!?" She made her hands into fists and held them up, completely unaware of hand-to-hand combat, but... what else did she have?

_"I am at your mercy in this form.  I only seek to spread my knowledge... step forward child."_

Puzzled still, she slowly let her hands down and examined the room with a renown focus and calm.  The candles lie around the room on the floor, on small benches, empty bookshelves, but there was one notable feature of the room... the altar.  Upon the altar lie a dark cloth embroidered in a gold thread of intricate design.  On the cloth, a tome lie spine up, pressed between two bookends made of what appeared to be a similar iron that barred the entrance from the inside.

_"Yes.. approach me."_

Curiosity instantly took hold, and she slowly took careful steps towards the altar, her steps crunching the debris from the ceiling that came down with her, then echoing softly as her steps came across the smooth, white, marble floor.  She wallowed hard as she took the two steps up to be before the table that the book lie on.

_"Do you wish to know what lie within?  Merely open me."_

The spine of the book was a wonder in itself.  Gold lettering outlined in a seemingly illuminated red tint, on a smoky, uneven blackish hue leather.  She extended her hand and placed it on the spine, and it was slightly warm to touch... just what kind of tome was this?

_"Seek... Take... Uncover what lie within..."_

Again, the elezen raised her other hand and slid her glasses up her nose once more.  A creeping silence continued to consume the small room as her breath became short in fear.  She eagerly eyed her surroundings, but due to the fall, she was certain whatever was seeking her life before was far above.  She only shared the small shrine with her, the tome, and the oddly lit candles, small fires dancing strong in red and purple glass cradles of random pattern throughout the room.

_"I know you long to seek knowledge, scholar.  Have your reward."_

Another moment of thick silence passed as she stared at the tome, her hand still feeling the living pulse on the spine.  She made a remark, "This is no place of worship.  This is a prison.  Whatever you might be, you are here for good reason.  'Tis folly to seek forbidden knowledge that serves to harm."

_"What I contain harm none, elezen."_

"Then why?" There was a deafening silence for a short time.

_"Only you might know, should you wish to learn what no one else left on Eorzea might..."_

She swallowed hard.  Quivering, she bit her lip and blinked furiously for a moment.  Slowly, her hand began to loosen the binding from the iron ends with little force.  She pulled the tome toward her.

_"Succumb to your desire."_

She slid the book until it was free from the bookends.  It fell to its side, exposing the cover.  It did not have a title, merely an intricate design of what appeared to be the silhouette of a person person on the top half, but... their legs appear obscured by threads that wrapped around their torso and thighs... the bottom half seemed to be a flip of the same design, yet the person had the same curiously illuminated red outline.

_"Curious, is it not?  Come, succumb to your thirst.  Open me, and be free of your unknowing."_

She rested the same hand again on the tome, this time, on the cover.  She still felt the same warmth.  As her hand lie there, she noted the golden threads seemed to illuminate to life at her touch.  Her fingers lightly ran across the cover, gently to the side, where she felt uneven pages.  Whatever this was, it was not made with extreme care.

She swallowed hard and considered her actions one last time.  She looked up at the light rays whence she fell, the candles around the room... at this point, she was not even sure survival was an option.  She may very well die here.

_"I assure you, if you wish to survive, you must bear witness to my message..."_

She looked at the tome with renewed conviction.  She exhaled sharply to break the heavy silence and nodded.  "Aye, whatever you are, I've nothing to lose at this point..."

With one swift motion, she creaked the binding open and felt an overwhelming heat come from the book.  Her emerald eyes lit as she moved her hand up to her face to cover the impact.  The heat seemingly wrapped itself around her as a gust of wind, or an unseen presence, and forced her arms down to her sides.  She swallowed hard and struggled against the force, hearing the wind whistle and thrash around the small space.  The candles fluttered to and fro, a victim to the ebb and flow of the energy around her.  The presence then tilted her head forward, her eyes still glowing green from the magic unleashed by the book, as she was forced to gaze upon its contents.

"A-Ah!?  What is-!" On the pages were crudely drawn photos of what appeared to be individuals engaged in sexual positions... just what was this?  The pages turned seemingly on their own, showing position after position.  She could not blink, she could not turn away.  She screamed as the images, increasingly graphic as the pages turned on, seemed to dance to life as the presence in the room grew and grew.  The heat becoming unbearable, the apparent wind blowing her hair, her clothing to and fro... she watched as the glow from her eyes began to trickle into the pages of the tome.  She felt a part of herself being consumed by the pages, one by one.  She continued to struggle in futility, but the presence had her squeezed into a state of paralysis.  She continued to scream as tears of emerald ran down her face, only to flutter from her cheeks to become conjoined with the pages.

_The voice chuckled softly. "You've undertaken quite a responsibility, lass.  You now belong to me.  Take in the views you see before you.  You will learn to give your body unto many.  Your soul will continue to be mine until you have completed everything you see before you across the land._

She muttered words between desperate breaths, "Wh...w...why..."

More green soaked into the pages as she felt her life becoming increasingly fragile in her body.

_"Oh, now you consider the prison I was in, this room?  As if I need to spell it out, I am a demon.  A succubus, if you will.  I ruled and preyed on the weak in Sharlayan and fed... ah! I oh so gratefully on them.  Such a precarious lot, yet so weak to a woman who knew her way around the pleasure center of every race!"  The voice laughed loudly, almost as a shriek.  "If you wish to ever see the soul consumed by these pages again, you must bring me back a soul bound by each emotion you wish to restore as your own.  Aye, you will bring them the best pleasure they will ever come to know, only before you suffocate the life form them and consume their soul as I have yours.  What a wonderful day, to feed again!"_

The elezen said nothing.  She could not bear it any longer.  The last tendrils of who she once was continued to trickle into the pages that spun.

" _Be lucky that I choose you to be as a vessel, and not another meal.  From now on, you do my bidding.  However... we need to ensure you've the right assets for the task!" The shrieking laugh echoed through the small room again._

The force slowly lifted the elezen's body upward and tilted her head backward until she was parallel to the floor, about four feet apart.  Her legs slightly dangled lower, as if she lie at the end of an invisible table.  The wind spun furiously as the elezen felt the tight grip lighten around her, yet her strength had all but faded, so there she lie, staring blankly, accepting her next face, expecting death.

She felt the heat start to gravitate towards specific parts of her body.  "Wai... n...ot..." She inhaled with an exasperated breath as she began to feel her chest throb as the heat seemingly entered her, through her skin.  Now, the elezen was never proud of her body, in truth, she never paid it much mind... but of course, she knew she was never anything special as well.  Yet, as... this presence seemingly felt as embers to her skin, then her ribs beneath, then her heart, she swore she felt the seams of the smallclothes around her chest begin to burst.

With what little strength she managed to contain, she feebly tilted her head upward to confirm the disgusting truth.  With each throb of her thin pulse, she could see her breasts become increasingly full, taking increasing shape out from her body.  This power was causing her body to change!  Before long, the strain on her undergarments was too much to bear, and the seam tore, and the now large curves that consumed her chest bounded to and fro at their newfound freedom.  She sighed heavily, groaning lightly at the feeling of her nipples against the gentle fabric of her robing.  There was a surprising sensation that flowed through her, seemingly giving her life in these last desperate moments.

With one arm, she shook violently still summoning the strength to stay conscious as she rest one hand atop one of the new supple mounds on her chest.  She moved one finger over the obvious tip, inhaling sharply and moaning at just how sensitive her nipples now were.  Just what power did this demon possess..?

_The chuckle returned.  "You like them?  Already attached I see.  You seem the loaner type, but look at you!  I'm not even done and you're already getting off to my power.  Just imagine what you'll be capable of out there!" The chuckle escalated to a high-pitched laugh once more.  "Now for the best part!"_

Her hand fell to its side and dangled toward the ground as her strength gave once more.  The howling winds making her deaf between the succubus' taunts, the exhaustion brought from the book draining her life away, the powerlessness of watching the dark magic twist her body...

The warmth, still as embers in her chest against her heart, began to trickle down her spine.  She felt the borderline burning sensation curving her spine, stretching, contorting its dimensions as she felt her stomach flatten and her hips widen slightly.  Her smallclothes again were challenged by the chance, as now she felt pressure building at the base of her spine, just below her back on her rear...

_"Let's not make this one so dramatic, no?"_

She felt the force slowly brush against her clothes and they began to slip down her thighs.  Weakened, the most she could offer in protest was a slight grunt before convulsing lightly in protest in attempts to stop her captor from exposing her.  It was no use as she continued to feel her skirt and undergarments slide to her knees, exposing the bushy slit between her legs.

_The succubus scoffed.  "Look, I understand a nerd like you probably isn't seeing a whole lot of pleasure in your life, but you could at least take care of yourself.  Why, you're hiding a forest down there!" The voice laughed mockingly.  "Don't worry, we'll take care of that very soon.  In the meantime..."_

Her clothes slid gracefully to her ankles.  The intense heat continued to converge at her rear as she could feel her body continue to contort and curve to the will of the succubus' power.  She opened her mouth slightly, but could only manage a line of spit that draped to the floor as her head gave to the side, her expression empty.

She wanted to die.  Between the agony of her body cracking and curving, her very existence falling away from her between the cursed pages, and the foolishness of her decision to tempt fate and open the book in the first place...

The curving seemed to stop, leaving her body now in an ideal shape for any model - large breasts, small waist, a large behind... if she were to complete the demon's will, no doubt it was her intent to make her this way to ease the means...

_"There you go.  Now, for a finishing touch..."_

The heat, now scorching below her waist, transitioned from her behind and moved forward.  As it gathered to a smaller surface area, it continued to get hotter.  She felt a lone bead of sweat drip from her brow to the floor below.  She was drenched in sweat from the transformation regardless, but now so much so that it was no longer holding on to her body.

The power arrived where her lightly quivering legs met.  She could feel it throb to her weak pulse as her chest did, and a new type of unsettling warmth came between her legs.  He weakly pulled them together, rubbing lightly, releasing a light sigh of pleasure.

_The voice cooed at her.  "My, wet already.  That part wasn't even my doing!  Deep down, you really are enjoying this, you little slut!  Did I luck out with you, of all people, finding me here?  All your life, buried in books, thoughts, theories... just imagine the pent-up sexual tension I get to exploit gaining my powers back!"  The cackle now returned in full._

The elezen stammered in short breaths, but no words were audible.  Sweat continued to drop from her body as the energy began to lightly wisp up and down her labia, pressing lightly, but just enough for the elezen to feel a single, thick drop of that wetness trickle down, discovering the curvature of her behind. like the sweat from her brow.  The wind continued to howl.

The heat within intensified as it began to converge with the energy outside, a contrast of hot and cool then joined over her clitoris.  She felt the throbbing intensify, so she draped her head the other way to catch a glimpse of what was happening down her body.  Her vision was obscured by the newfound fleshy mountains of her breasts and perky tips standing at firm, full attention.

She did not need sight to feel what came next.  The energy pushed against her clit, causing her trembling legs to become an uncontrollable shake.  She did her best to keep them together, rubbing her thighs lightly as the pleasure continued to consume her.  The heat inside pushed outward, increasing that pressure placed on her pleasure center.  The energy swayed to and fro as it pushed harder, forcing it back and forth against the pressure the invisible energy was creating.

She was in ecstasy, yet too weak to speak.  Moments later, felt the shaking of her legs give as she uncontrollably thrust her torso up farther into the air, feeling the intense release of her orgasm causing her body to lock up and shake harder than it had before.  Another rogue drop slowly cascaded from her slit.  Her back arched violently and her toes curled at the overwhelming throbbing, her breaths hardly audible, yet each quick exhale still held a slight moan in reply.  The intense heat seemed to be released by the feeling, as she felt it finally leave her body and give her peace.  Her face, now an empty smile, still remained motionless, a soulless, exhausted gaze.

_"And we've only just begun, darling.  Just you wait... you've so much to learn about your own body!"_

After another agonizing series of shrieks as her body continued to contort to and fro in residual pleasure from release, the room suddenly came to a halt.  The heat cooled, the presence left, the air lie still, all at once.  The body of the elezen crumpled to the floor, and lie motionless, drenched in sweat.  The candles, which danced furiously throughout the ritual, rested at light flickers once more.  The book quickly fluttered through it's pages backwards until it shut itself.  The dust from the stone debris slowly settled with a light hiss around the room.

After some time in deafening silence, she slowly rose again.  Her head hang low as her hair fell in front of her face as she rose.  One hand held her skirt, which she rose to her waist as she continued to stand.  When she stood at full height, her head still hung.  She was silent.

_"You start immediately, child.  Go, and begin your journey to repay the debt man brought to me, sealing me for centuries, starving me what from I need for sustenance.  Even now, I am too weak to take physical form and feed again... and that is where you come in, dear.  Feed the souls, and bring them unto me.  I have given you the gift of a perfect body, one no one can resist.  This is your tool.  Your means to ensure you do not fail me."_

A crooked smile slowly formed on the elezen's lips, bearing her teeth on one side.  Her head slowly tiled upward and to the side, as her reddish hair slid away to expose her face.  Her gaze was seemingly empty, and her eyes had become grey.  She shuffled ungracefully to one foot and turned, sliding the book into her grasp, wrapping it in the fold of one hand.

"As you wish, master.  Eorzea will find deliverance in their pleasure.  I will bring you every life to satiate all you desire, as you have done for me."

_"That's a good girl.  Now, I believe you saw a suffering sellsword outside... it sounds like you are ready for your first harvest.  Go, and make yourself comfortable..."_

The shrieking laugh echoed in the elezen's head one last time.  She walked to the door, and with the other hand, effortlessly lifted the dense iron bar, tossing it easily to the side.  She creaked the door to the shrine open, and walked into the dangers of The Great Gubal Library, seemingly invincible to any danger withing now.

So begins her long journey to savor every kill in righteous pleasure throughout Eorzea.


	2. Sadness and Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The succubus puts her to work right away. Her first victim proves a conquest of minimal struggle...

_ “You recall how this works?” _

The elezen nodded in the shroud of night.  It had been three days since leaving the library, and she has spent the time since stalking the first target.  The outspoken roegadyn has never left the elezen’s cold, listless gaze.  Currently, she crouched on a rooftop in Limsa Lominsa’s lower decks in the cover of night, which meant little more than a flattened portion mountainside overlooking the water’s edge.  

Her garb has seen a significant change from the conservative robes of a scholar.  Now, she donned a long-sleeved dark overcoat, tattered at the knees, draping over long, tight, knee-high heeled boots.  It fluttered freely in the light breeze high above the nightlife bustle below.  In the front, the coat was free of any buttons and fell loose, exposing much more of her chest.  A wide red sash at her stomach held an open undershirt of the same color inside the coat at a low cut, with nothing but a tight black bra leaving what little was left to the imagination.  A small leather strap with a golden clasp stretched from the far side of the open coat around the back latching to her back, keeping the coat from blowing entirely open.  Her thighs were exposed, save black tight shorts that matched the matte, tight material of the boots.  Two small threads and clasps held the two together on both legs.

Bound at her hip was the tome in a tight leather binding.

The night had not a single cloud in the sky, and past her brooding stance, the brilliant night sky stretched endlessly to marry the expansive, rippling sea.  They seemed to stretch endlessly, the sky boasting every constellation in bright splendor, the water shimmering in reflection of the canvas above in envy.  She continued to survey the crowd below, dispersing in local establishments for dining, shopping, even conversing by the water’s edge on the many docks housing massive galleons.

_ “You are a terrible conversationalist without your soul, you know that?” _

The elezen said nothing, still looking on.  She turned to gaze upon an exposed brittle rock face nearby, and in one swift leap, jumped to it and with her bare hands, slid down the mountainside, digging her heel to control the fall.  Sliding down two stories, she gracefully stepped off to a small, empty alley between structures, remaining in dense shade.  After a quick brush off, she started to the main drag.

_ “At least nod or something!  You can’t afford to botch this.” _

The elezen stopped just before walking into the flow of people, turning her head to the right side where the book rest at her hip.

“Upon sexual release, I am to look directly into his eyes, and state the incantation.  This will conjoin his soul with mine, restoring a part of myself.  His soul will then be passed to you. His life will be extinguished, his body a mere empty vessel.  He will die.”

_ “Goodness, so matter-of-factly.  No fun, no thrill.  I was hoping my first stroll through your awful continent would prove to have better company than this.  No jokes?” _

The elezen remained motionless, her lips pursed.

_ “Well, don’t make me force you, you puppet.  I don’t know how you plan on seducing a man without a voice, so why don’t you just get on with it.  The plan is we take him, only because we have discovered he is clearly a man of promiscuity.  To conjoin souls with him will hopefully give you some game to make the rest of our travels far less painful.  We have already seen him successfully seduce a woman once just yesterday here, so it’s clear this is his main base of operations for finding someone to keep him company through the night.  Tonight, that’s you.” _

She stepped into the flow of people crowding the streets of Limsa Lominsa.  She was bumped once on the shoulder, but did not stir, practically throwing the other person off balance.  She looked forward with an empty conviction, her grey eyes

_ “It’s kind of neat how you don’t need sleep when you’re with me, no?  Isn’t that at least fun?” _

The elezen did not respond.

_ “And come on!  No ‘thank you’ yet for the wonderful body!?” _

Yet still, she did not reply, continuing to step forward towards her destination.

_ “I wish you could see my disappointment right now.  I don’t know who needs this more… you, or me.  I can’t wait to get this first one out of the way.” _

“You are distracting,” she finally opened up.  Nearby, an annoyed mo’quite looked her way for a moment in annoyance, before scoffing and going about her business.

_ “THAT is all you have to say?  I’ve been sealed for an eternity!  Excuse me for trying to make this a little more fun for the both of us, on this road together!” _

“You imposed this on me.  I do not act to satiate your fancy, but restore what I’ve lost.”

_ “You would make a good demon.  A shame you were born so… normal.” _

“You have made my flesh an empty vessel.  My compassion lies in your pages.  I am no demon.”

_ “Alright, I’m done talking to this brick wall.  We’re here anyway, no?” _

The succubus was right.  She stood before an opening with french doors wide open, inviting a warm light to all who passed to come in and enjoy a drink.  Inside, hearty laughter, the loud clang of dinnerware and cups, and lively music proved that this was a major gathering for the locals.  More were entering than exiting, showing that if she was to find her target, she would need to make haste.  She filtered herself in a group of women entering at the same time, as to not draw attention.  Her eyes darted to and fro in attempts to find the roegadyn.  The noise inside made her wince more than once - the music turned too overpowering, which was forcing the patrons to compensate with louder conversation and festivity.  Yet still, her conviction unchanged, she continued her search, looming to the corners of the room, her icy gaze mostly unnoticed by the great company of those engaged in drink and song.

Then she spotted him.  Surprisingly enough, tonight he sat alone, seemingly staring into the bottom of a mug at the far corner of the bar, against the wall.  She took a moment to observe him in his current state from about twenty yalms away, unphased by his condition.

“Aye, miss!” a shouting voice addressing her snapped her out of focus.  She blinked twice and turned the source of the voice with her eyes wide.  It was a fairly average hyur, short brown hair, wearing an apron and a warm smile, stared back with a few dirty plates in hand.  She said nothing, her stone eyes unnerving, her lips pursed.  After a moment of silence, the hyur looked away, then back at her, still looking at him unmoving, before taking a nervous step away.  “Ye… Ye know?  I’ll come back when ye’re done an’ ready.”  He shuffled away quickly.

She turned her gaze back at the roegadyn, and as luck would have it, the patron next to him rose and left their gil on the table and moved to walk out.  The elezen swiftly stepped to close the gap and slid into the seat beside him with not a moment to spare.  Another elezen appeared to have had her eyes on it, but huffed away, fuming and shaking her head in anger.

The roegadyn still sat in his somber silence, tilting his silver mug back and forth on the bar top by it’s handle.  She was tactful in observing him from her peripheral vision.  He was entirely disengaged from life bursting in every direction in the establishment.  This continued for a few minutes, and only long sighs and the occasional “hmph!” could be heard from him.

“Lass, ye either gon’ order or ye gon’ haveta make room fer someone with coin.”  She looked up at a second hyur, taller, with long, dark hair, also unshaven.  He showed a bit of weathered age in his face.  He had another silver mug in hand, wiping it clean with a white cloth.  She said nothing for another moment, staring blankly.

_ “You really ARE worthless, I hate to have to do this, but you’ve given me no choice.” _

With a quick flash of green in her eye, a slightly menacing smile formed on her face of equal parts seduction and mystery.  “I’ll have what this fine gentleman is having, thank you!” she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, her loose hair draping to one side.  The bartender nodded and moved off to fulfill the request.  The green faded from her gaze once more.

_ “Don’t botch this!  I can’t keep saving you from drowning, I’ve yet to feed on a single soul after all.” _

Silence resumed for another few long moments before he returned with a full, frothy glass.  “‘Ere you go lass!  Play your cards right an’ maybe he’ll pay!  Haw haw!”  He smiled as he dropped the drink in front of her with a loud thud.  She looked back up at him, nodding lightly, expressionless.  He raised one eyebrow before his attention diverted to other patrons with gil in raised hand.  He tended to the other part of the U-shaped bar.

The elezen sat, staring at the glass, watching a single drop of condensation slowly feel gravity’s embrace pull it ever lower.  Her hands were folded on her lap, her legs crossed.  The buzz around the bar grew ever-still, challenging the limits of her ears with joyful yells and upbeat tone of the band.  Another minute passed of her observing the mug before he finally attempted to break the ice.

“If it’s company yer lookin’ fer, ye’ll find none here, lass.  I say ye go to anyone else ‘ere and ‘ave better odds.  I’m in no place fer a woman right now.”  He adjusted in the small bar stool uncomfortably and held his empty mug, dwarfed by his massive grip.

_ “Vulnerable, I’m liking this so far.  Let’s see what you got!” _

She turned and put her far hand on his, saying nothing, but it positioned her body to face him, her exposed low-cut shirt showing her curves in the warm light.  He turned his head to face her, and squinted slightly, seemingly recognizing her.

“‘Oye, ‘ave we met..?”

“Yes.” She met his gaze with her own.  He quickly examined her colorless eyes and silent expression, which created a dense air between them instantly.

He peered away, perturbed by the intensity in her blank stare.  “W...well, whatever pain I have caused ye, forget it.  I ain’t in no mood for apologizin’ this eve.” after a moment, he looked back, slightly confused, looked her up and down, then back at her face.  He peered at her hair, draped downward in a slight curl.

“Aye… you survived the library I see.  By the maker, ye be hidin’ quite the figure ‘neath them robes.  Where are you from again?” his eyes suddenly had a bit of life to them.

The elezen did not answer, she simply slid her drink toward him, looked him in the eyes, and nodded.  He looked back, shrugged, taking it in his massive grasp, flinging it to his lips, gulping it down.  She rose a hand, drawing the bartender back, pointing at his empty mug.  He understood and shortly a new mug, frothy with hops, was at her side once more.

“This is backward, ye figure.  Usually I’m th’ one buyin’.” despite his attempt at humor, he did not slow, dropping mug after mug down his throat.  The elzen simply watched as he continued to speak, seemingly through an anticipated response from her that never came.  Time continued to pass, his state increasingly loose, and seemingly improving.

“An’ tha’s when I told him!  HAH!  Ye bettah pay, ‘else I slice ye throat!” the elzen continued to look at him, unmoving.  He did not seem to mind, continuing his obviously scripted, typical approach, drink after drink.   
  
“Ye like muscles!?  Feel these biceps, lass!”

…

“You deserve a look at my sword collection, even a glance at where I keep my most prized thruster, catch my drift?  Haw!”

…

“Don’t you feel honored to be with the champion Gaersys!?”

 

_ “It took all that banter just to learn his name?  Wow, this is something else.  I’m glad you’ll be adapting to actual conversation with his soul, at least.  What is your name, anyway?” _

The elezen stood suddenly, as if off-put by the succubus’ question.  Gaersys looked up at her with a dazed, sullen look.  “Leavin’ so soon, lass?  At least let me show ye th’ way to the next fun spot!”  He stood, leaned forward slightly, shifting through a pocket, bringing out a fistful of coin, dropping it on the bartop.  The bartender eyed the situation, rolling his eyes in a deep sigh.

“Not this again.” he groaned, while rubbing the inside of a mug with a cloth.  His attention diverted again to a nearby patron.

The elezen turned for the door and began to walk.  Gaersys followed behind, calling out to her with his usual banter.  By the looks of it, she was simply turning him down, and he followed behind with japes and calling out to her.  As other nearby patrons glanced looks of disgust at his non-existent game, she continued to press on, walking through the entrance, back onto the main cobblestone fairway.  Gaersys continued his pursuit.

“Where ye headed lass?  ‘Specially with..out the mighty Gaersys!” he flexed, stumbling his way into the crowd, bumping into someone with every other step.

_ “I can’t tell if this is your game to maintain his interest, or you’re just done trying.  You’ve baited the hook now, you have to finish this.  Hey, are you listening?”  _ The elezen walked, unphased by both the succubus questioning her intent, and the roegadyn.

“H...hey!  That’s just-!”

The elezen reached an intersection with a dark alleyway, littered with stacks of barrels and decrepit crates.  The bustle of nightlife left it all but forgotten, it was shrouded in the night’s embrace, not even the moon found its illuminated face within.  She looked back at the roegadyn, continuing to give chase, placing one hand on the wall, before slowly slinking within the folds of darkness.

Stumbling along, he followed without regard.  “Where are ye, lass!?  I… Imma tell ye ‘bout the time I, ah… ye know, details, they ain’t… or was it…?” he continued to get lost in thought, as he bumbled past the maze of barrels and crates that lined the tight corridor.  He paid no mind that it turned into a small opened, where she stood in wait, again, interlocking eyes as he came forth.

He peered around at their apparent loneliness.  His aloof demeanor instantly turned, as he pursed his lips and stepped toward her, a strong intent in his eyes, a growing grin on his face, his brow furrowed.  The bustle of the street had faded greatly, and around them was nothing but the eerie stillness of night.

“Aye, good look fer you, getting us alone like this, you muss be… you little…” he took two wobbly steps toward her as his demeanor turned sinister.  He extended a large, grey hand to her shoulder, gripping with immense strength.  Her nerves stood at odds as she winced slightly as his fingertips bore into her bone.  With little effort, moving the one arm alone, he flung her into a nearby crate.  She attempted to balance herself and failed tumbling into it with the resounding echo of splinters.  The wood obscured her view, yet she could still see his feet, slowly approaching with uneven steps.

“Ey… lady… les’ get to it then… you n’ I… you… heh… ye slut… drawin’ me in like this… I’ll give yeh what a slut deserves...” he continued to stammer as his sluggish steps drew ever nearer.  She eyed his distance carefully, and as he continued his leering at the crumpled body in the wood.  The silence continued to deafen the area as his heavy steps on the weathered stone echoed around them.  “A… slut… thas’ what ye are… a little… my little… heh…” As he was but a yalm away, she struck back.

She swiftly slid her legs beneath her and leapt forward, catching the large man off-guard.  Her senses heightened by the adrenaline pumping through her.

_ “Allow me,”  _ the voice echoed in her head.  With a flash of green in her eye, in midair, she extended her arms and wrapped them around him, her thighs tightly clamping on his stomach.  Her arms crossed around his back as he began to stumble backward with the initial impact.  Her fingers gripped his leather vest and cloth undergarments alike, and pulled with such force they became shreds that fluttered around them as he lost his footing and they both fell backward, exposing his chiseled chest.

The impact of his back to the hard ground resounded in a large  _ thud _ that went unnoticed to the main drag and it’s bustle.  She worked her legs out from under his immense size, now straddling his stomach.

“Wh...wha!?”  He was still in shock over her bold move.  “Wha’s the meanin’ of-?” he muttered shaking his head with his eyes shut from bracing the impact, he rose his hand to rub his brow.  She leaned back, reaching with her hand to his crotch, slowly stroking up and down, easily finding his manhood, already flowing with intensity for what was expecting ensuing after his initial attack.  His legs jolted as he felt the light strokes further stimulate him.  He opened his eyes, with slightly blurred vision, looked at her.  She looked expressionless still at him, and in silence, lifted her hand to have only two fingers on the stiff material, hiding a large gift beneath.  She walked the two fingers up to a seam with a button with seductive gentleness.  She did not break eye contact as she effortlessly freed the pressure on the seams of the dark pants, practically bursting his large member from its tight enclosure.

“I… ain’t arguin’, but…” he was powerless to her play.  He lied, eyes wide, at her next move.  She moved from a straddle to his side, then reversed the straddle, catching a glimpse at her prize, all while giving him a clear view of her backside, curves tightly fitting the shiny material of her shorts, fully exposing her thighs.  He swallowed hard.

He was well-endowed for a roegadyn, as expected from a majority of the race, he was thick, with a very defined, apparent tip, with a skin tone that rightfully matched the rest of his flesh.  His pulse quickened and could be seen as it continued to throb and grow with each passing beat of his heart.  A thick vein run up the side of the shaft, ebbing as his heart did.  He was stiff to a point where it was lifted from his body, intensely throbbing in anticipation of her intimate attention.  She slowly leaned down, placing one hand on his lower stomach, slowly running it down his torso, arriving at the base of his thick manhood.  He could feel her hand lift it straight up, and her hot breath gently embracing the tip.  Again his thighs tightened at the sensation, and he inhaled sharply.  In reaction, he also placed one massive hand on the incredible curve of her behind, exploring freely.

She slowly plunged the tip between her lips, gently caressing it in circles with her tongue.  She also ran her fingertips gently up and down the shaft, paying extra mind to the throbbing vein to continue to feel the sensation of his pulse.

“A...aye, that’s…” he was increasingly speechless with every flick of her tongue.  She slowly swayed back and forth, further taunting his vision with her well-defined butt.  With every slurp, she took in a bit more of his length each time, developing a light bob up and down.  He felt warm between her lips.  Her hands began to feel the wetness from her saliva dripping down, which she used as a lubricant to further pleasure him.

This continued until she was handling a majority of his length in her mouth, he was large enough where she felt him challenging her gag reflex in her throat.  His meager words reduced to moans and demands for more.  He was within her spell.

_ “Wow, he wasn’t kidding.  Look at you go, you whore.  You’ve been holding this in for too long, haven’t you?”  _ the elzen ignored more japes coming from the voice.

He got adventurous with his hands, and placed them between her legs, feeling the warmth between her legs. She reacted by releasing her soft grip of his cock between her lips and standing, rather abruptly.  He seemed surprised at first, but continued to appreciate the show of gaining another solid look at her incredible featured from below.  She switched her position around again, facing him, but took a step back, and began to lean down again.  She gripped his pants, still wrapped around his thighs, and tugged them down his legs.  They gave, and he leaned so they would come off easily.  She stood again, reaching to the clips that bound her shorts to her tights, and released them, one by one.  He quivered in increasing anticipation with each resounding  _ snap _ that echoed in their personal corner.  When all four threads lie loose, she threaded a finger from each hand under the seam, and began to tug them down, exposing her other lips, which his cock continued to throb for, hungry to discover what lie within her other lips.

She remained stoic, meeting his gaze as the shorts fell to her heels.  She stepped out of them on one foot as she stepped over him, straddling him once more, but facing him.  She leaned forward at the waist, leaving her legs extended.  Her breasts dangled, brushing against his chest, her hands falling to his shoulders, gripping them.  Slowly, she bent her knees, feeling his short breath against her cheek.  She plunged her tongue between his lips just as he felt the tip of his cock meet the heat of her outer lips.  She shuffled in a way that allowed her to press against him, not penetrating, just rubbing up and down, allowing her the chance to size him up before permitting entry.  His legs continued to jolt and shake, shuffling at the excitement of what came next.  As they remained tongue-tied, she grinded against him, moving up and down, left and right, leaving no angle to the imagination.

He could not bear it any more.  He wrapped his hands around her bulbous posterior, lifted her up, adjusted his position so he stood straight up in attention, and forced her down onto him as he thrust upward, and aggressively attempted to penetrate her.  Instantly, her thighs tightened and she winced, pulling her mouth away from his and gritting her teeth with an audible gasp.  He had pressed against her, and the tip barely entered before meeting the tightness inside against muscle pushing him away.  He grunted as she rose her hips upward, re-establishing control of the situation.

“You will have what’s yours, Gaersys.  Do not press our union to rush…” He did not answer her, only panting heavily.  “I will let you feel as you never have.”  He nodded.  She arched her back, aligning the tip of his throbbing, eager manhood to her tight labia.  Slowly, she leaned on her knees back and forth, rubbing her insides, while slowly introducing his length inside of her.  She bit her lip, pressing her cheek against the nape of his neck.  Her grip on his flesh tightened, digging her nails lightly into his flesh, breaking it with a couple fingers, drawing blood lightly.  Her breasts bounced freely against his upper torso.  With every shift of her weight, the penetration continued, and she exhaled sharply, groaning in pain, which he seemingly enjoyed..  She glanced below, noting the blood lightly running down the throbbing vein.  So this was how she would become deflowered…

_ “I send you on a quest for redemption through sex, and you’ve never even  _ _ had _ _ it!?  Truly, this is just a sad state of affairs.  At least you’ve yet to let me down here.  Ten out of ten for dedication to our cause.” _

He groaned in pleasurable release as he finally was able to take what he wished.  The throbbing continued, and even the vein was so prominent she could feel it pulse inside of her.  For a moment, there was no movement, even in their mouths, as she adjusted to the girth within her, but slowly, she started to grind up and down.  She would not take him in and out, simply allowed his thick shaft to press against every corner of what she had to offer inside of her.  One of his hands fell to his side in ecstasy, the other barely holding on to her behind as the grinding brought on louder moans from him.  She felt a single bead of sweat trickle down her forehead and her nose as she built a rhythm of front to back, side to side.  Her gaze remained unchanged throughout it all, a fixated, empty gaze.  She released her lips from his to gain better positioning to increase his pleasure.

“...this is… incredible…” he continued to moan in pleasure, taking no notice to her expression, as her grind started to lift lightly from his member, sliding with ease back down.  She continued kneeling in the straddle, mixing up the front and back grind with the side to side, increasing her lift and pace with every thrust.  He gently reacted, tapping into her rhythm and providing a light thrust for lift in sync with her motions.  His hand at her side lifted, gripping her breast.  They were soft, and he could feel her nipple pressing through the fabric, which he lightly caressed.  This caused her to inhale and lightly bite her upper lip, yet still she had no emotion to enjoy the sensation, and remained blank.

_ “Wow, I would swear this is your full-time job!  Maybe you aren’t so worthless after all.  I can’t wait for you to take on his bumbling nonsense, this kind of attitude will make you extremely vulnerable which makes for easy catches.  Finish this.” _

She nodded lightly and placed one hand on his chest, tightening her grip on his sides with her knees, and began to press into him, lifting until the tip was barely within her, then down again.  She felt his grip on her round features, front and back, tighten, almost too much, but she took it to ensure she did not compromise his pleasure.  She continued the aggressive thrusting and the sounds of the alley turned into his audible groans, and the slick sliding in and out of her wet slit.  Her breath continued to labor as she licked her lips, working his thick cock plunging in and out of her, stretching the capability of what she can take, forcing her insides to be ideal to his shape.

“It is my job to serve you.” she finally broke the silence.  He lost it.

“A-ah!  Tha’s… aye, lass, I-I’m going to-!”

_ “Now!  This is your chance!  Make it count!” _

She plunged the entirety of his shaft into her, wincing at the pressure of how deep a fold it had found within her.  She took the hand on his shoulder and grabbed his chin with it, forcing him to look up at her.  She murmured an incantation of unintelligible origin, causing him to blink in confusion, but not break the gaze.

As she looked directly into his eyes as she felt his throbbing member pump into her in explosive, hot release, her eyes illuminated a deep emerald, fixating his gaze to hers.  He became paralyzed by the magic hiding behind her pupils, and his hands fell to his sides.  His mouth opened slightly, exhaling his last breath.  She began to feel her vision fade, eventually obscured in a thick fog.  She felt weightless for a moment.

\---

The elezen found herself standing in a thick fog, naked.  She blinked a few times and peered about, an eerie light illuminating nothing but sense vapor around her.  The ground felt solid, like a flat stone.  In the distance, she saw the shadow of a built person, sitting, looking away, undoubtedly matching the build of Gaersys.  She slowly walked towards him, and called to him once.

“Gaersys.”

The figure hung its head low in silence.  She continued forward still, until he was in plain sight.  Sure enough, the grey skin, the silver hair, it was him without a doubt.

“Serves me right, ye know.  To be a victim of some sex demon after the ‘urt I been causin’ a lot of women ‘round Eorzea.”

“I am not a sex demon.”

A voice nearby hissed in frustration, bellowing and echoing throughout the mysterious place,  _ “Well, you might as well be one!  You serve one, don’t you!?  Don’t put me down like that!  Business is business dear, take your prize.” _

“I… I am not…” she could not comprehend.

__ “S’alright, lass. I’ve accepted what’s comin’.  S’only a matter o’time before a scorned lover o’ my past came t’ take me.  I been dead many years already.  Ain’t nothin to me now.  I am only livin’ long enough to see the bottom o’ the next drink.  Couple years ago, my betrothed was taken by the beasts.  A regular night o’ travel across the shroud, it was, an’ the Ixal had a different thing in mind.  She was th’ only one fer me.  All that mattered.  I was scum before then.  It came rushin’ back the day she breathed her last.  I hadta bury her.  I had to identify her barely remaining body and say ‘Tha’s her.  Tha’s my love.’  All that was left in me was a void.”

A booming voice resounded through the chamber.   _ “No… NO!  It cannot be-!  All this womanizing and you’re just a pathetic waste of life!?” _

Gaersys exhaled in a half-smile.  “Aye, demon.  I been dead fer the two years since.  To th’ day… why I was buried n’ me own thoughts, just rememberin’ her… It kinda happened instantly, feelin’ me change, dyin’ on the inside.  Like a switch was pressin’ in my head an’ my heart an’ there was nothin’ I could do.  Nothin’ thrills me.  Not driving me blade into a beastman, not testing the limits o’ my insides with drink, not even forcin’ myself unto you now.  I was only ‘oping to feel something.  You were gon’ be a victim, lass.  I still wouldn’t ‘ave felt a thing.  Not a damned thing.  Not…”  He suddenly tensed up in his sitting position, and began to tilt to his side.  In reaction, the elezen quickly kneeled to catch him, yet upon impact with her arms, he dissipated into a deep blue ether, which wisped about slowly before slowly drawing towards her hands, seemingly being absorbed by her bare skin up her arms and into her chest.

_ “No!  NO!  Not so soon!  I can’t afford this!  Augh!”  _ The demon was clearly upset over this turn of events.   _ “How could someone who was such a sure bet to corrupt you turn into such a waste of life?  Pathetic.  All of you!  Your race is nothing but pathetic!  Hiding your true selves in dark corners… ulterior emotions to cover them… these layers are just bothers to me.” _

Then it hit her.  She felt as if her chest was collapsing.  Her breath became short as the weight of what transpired was beginning to settle in.

“I… I…” the elezen’s voice stammered as she quietly took in a breath, her eyes darting to and fro.  “I killed him… I killed him!  I KILLED HIM-!” She started to scream as tears streamed down her face.  A pulse of green restored a slight color to her eyes as they continued to stream sorrow and mourn for the deed that had just been done.  Through a watery, colluded gaze, she sat on her feet, looking down at her open palms, slowly curling her fingers, watching tears lightly splash and trickle down the treads in her weathered hands.

_ “Ugh, of all things… welcome back your sadness and regret.  Despair.  A beautifully awful setback for everything.  You just went from bad to worse as a travel companion.” _

“Why… why would you force such a thing on me…?  Why does he have to die… why do I deserve to live…?” she continued to futily ask herself questions her bare emotions could not comprehend, least provide an answer to.

“It should have been me… It should have  _ BEEN ME _ !” her voice echoed through the empty space.  Slowly, between muddled sobs and anguished cries, her vision blurred once more and slowly, she came about back to the alleyway.  She was clothed once more, her hiked shorts had settled back to a normal position.  Just how much time had passed?

_ “None,”  _ the succubus answered, the echo in her head returning.   _ “Unless you want to be tried a murderer, you need to make yourself scarce.” _

Her eyes still wet, she inhaled through her nose, which struggled through loose debris from her outburst, and rubbed her eyes.  She moved her hand behind her back as she lifted herself up and it hit something with a resounding  _ thud _ of something behind her.  It felt soft, yet still, unmoved by her presence.

She knew.  Yet, she still turned to look.  She had to know for sure.

There, the dark flesh of Gaersys lie still, his head facing straight to the air. His tired eyes had a sort of white, a cloudy film over them, his face locked with a weathered frown.  He had not the opportunity to dress, and his manhood still lie exposed, erect.

“N-no… no-!” she began to stammer once more, feeling the sadness come over her like a tidal wave.  Her eyes began to water again.

_ “Ugh, you’ve no time!  Run!  Cry later!” _

“I… I deserve to be the one… Gaersys, you… you were just lonely, you…” her managed small comments between sobs.

_ “He tried to  _ **_rape_ ** _ you!  No man deserves pity should he be willing to force himself on another woman!  If not you, it would have been someone far less deserving!  Evil in this world sometimes needs evil to snuff it’s flame out.  Be happy you’ve done the world a service.”  _ she could hear the succubus growing increasingly displeasure.  Around the corner, laughter and footsteps echoed through the tight corridor.  She would be discovered, yet still she lie still, another rogue tear flowing down her cheek as she took his unmoving, stiff hand in hers stammering more words.

“You...I could have… saved you…”

The steps drew closer.  Shadows danced on the corridor’s walls of a man and woman drawing close.  She could not move, paralyzed still in her depression in taking a life.

_ “Ugh!  Must I do everything?” _

“No, demon.” she released his hand, shakily inhaling,and stood.  She reached down, released the book from its strap, and flung it into a corner, behind a rotting create, out of sight.

_ “Wha-! What are you-!?” _

She remained out of sight for only a few moments.  The couple became engrossed in one another, their loud jests turning to a quiet embrace just feet away from the corpse around the bend.  The elezen kneeled, taking the tome, and returned it to it’s saddle, pinning it in place.

_ “That is unacceptable.  Do your emotions mean nothing that you would cast them aside?  Know your place, girl.  You put your life in the balance tossing me like a worthless possession.” _

“With you, I wonder if they are worth saving anymore.” she choked back her overwhelming sadness enough to say, before peering at the fence that barred the only other exit.  

The book did not reply.

She quickly made a fist, and with ease, drove it through the wooden planks, following her shoulder, and in one swift motion, blasted through.  The noise was enough to startle the couple, who looked to each other in fear.  The man, full of brazen bravery from his drink, turned the corner to be greeted by the corpse.  He gasped in shock, drawing the attention of the girl, who also peered and screamed, drawing more and more attention to the scene.

Past the fence, the elezen walked a drudging pace in silence, covered by the dark of night.  Her gaze resumed a listless grey, yet the slight hint of green remained that was not present before.

She did her best to choke down her rediscovered sadness.  But how long would it last…?


	3. Enter the DOS!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her crimes will not go unnoticed - nor unpunished - so long as they are on the case!

The room had a disarming way about it.  Perhaps that’s how he was finally able to sleep.

A candle, flitting softly in a puddle, caught in it’s own low, curved stand, battled for its life among the last small tendrils of its wick, quickly being consumed by the waxy puddle just beneath.  The warm glow illuminated the sizable room, its glow combating the warm sunrise that peered through white, billowing curtains and an open window, inviting a morning breeze that slowly brought Ishgard’s morning chill inside with a light whisper.  The stone opening had a flat bottom, going parallel up the sides until the top, where they curved into a point.  

The room itself was nothing extraordinary - a couple bookshelves, lined with a number of weathered tomes of various description, albeit all lining the same theme - occult, aetherial, demonica & lore… one peering about the spines would quickly understand the owner’s obsession with the supernatural.  Another stack of tomes on a small table by a comfortable, cushioned red chair on the far corner of the room from the window.  These tomes shared their small tabletop quarters with the same candle, still barely clinging to its flame.  A small area rug with a basic triangle pattern within an oval invited any guest in as they would walk through the large, dark wooden door, which, based on it’s massive, wrought iron hinges, seemed to bear an uncomfortable load on them still.  Centered in the room, between the cooling window breeze and the futile candle’s struggle, a large bed lie, its inhabitant within.  The only other thing of note in the stone enclosure was the small closet, cutting out one corner of the room with a small door, undoubtedly where the remainder of their possessions lie stuffed, as the room itself was fairly bare, save one more door that likely led to a restroom.

Despite it’s simple decor, it was his abode, one which he was always glad to relieve his waking hours within with restful slumber.  He lie in the bed, quietly resting, facing the window on his side.  An adult male elezen, nothing of note to find in Ishgard any day, with what appeared to be his clothing from the day before strewn about on the other side of the bed.  His blond hair fell messy around his face, but short enough not to obscure vision.  A peaceful sleeper, he seemed to not notice the small orb within the folds of his blanket frantically pulsing.  A linkpearl, a small means of communication in Eorzea, throbbed with light, showing incredible activity given its purpose.  Whomever shared one with him, they were talking to a great degree, while he lie motionless, deep within a dream.  Slowly, the embrace of the morning fell across his pale complexion, he squinted, rolling over, and quickly returned to his imaginings.

Not long after, the flame finally succumbed to the wet wax below, and slowed to a shadowy ember in a wisp of smoke, a line billowing to the ceiling.  Outside his door, a commotion quickly built.  There were heavy, fleeting footsteps from the stairs to the floor of his small abode (which shared space with many other units) and a thud.  A man could be heard berating what sounded like a young woman for being careless as she apologized profusely.  After a few moments of back and forth, the footsteps hastened once more, until they were right in front of the man’s door.  Without knocking, the door swung open with little resistance, loudly creaking as the iron moaned at the sudden force of the swing.  The door freely flung into the stone wall, shaking the entire room, alerting the dreamer, who sprung into a sit at his intruder, wide-eyed, disoriented.

“Lyn!  LYN!?  Where are you!?” he attempted to focus, squinting, rubbing his eyes at the body yelling his name before him.  Even with blurred vision, he knew who it was based on the voice alone.

“By the gods, Fi’Teri, it can’t be more than three hours since we wrapped up our scene in the highlands… what are you doing here…?” he peered at her with one eye, the other forced shut by the light coming through the window.  His short hair flopped from one side to the other atop his head.

He focused to rest his eyes upon hers.  She appeared to be in the very same uniform that lie in a crumpled heap at the corner of his bed - hers more notably pressed however.  She wore short, thick heels on black, form fitting, leather boots that met just below the knee to slightly looser black slacks.  Her long-sleeved coat was the most notable to give status she was in a uniform - it was very slim, mostly black with white trim at the seams, and large red buttons off-center slightly to the right.  The collar matched this slight skew,coming up and covering the nape of the neck, standing straight up.  The ends of her sleeves, the collar, and the end of the coat at her waist had a notable gold trim further outlined from the white.

Upon her left breast, there was an intricate white and gold embroidered logo, threads weaved in and out in a single stranded knot which formed the letters “DOS”.

The miqo’te looked upon him with a hurried intensity on her face.  Her hair was medium-length, black with a deep red that peered out in the waves that fell to her shoulders, but seemed bothered by a breeze, pushed slightly backwards, away from her face..  She was notably pale, with piercing blue eyes housing her slitted pupils, a white brand of three lines below her eyes on her cheek.  Atop her head, expectantly, tall, thin black feline ears popped out, alive and fluttering to and fro at her excited condition.  Likewise, her bushy black tail behind her swung about.

“Have you not been on linkpearl!?  We are in a state of emergency!  You weren’t answering!” she looked about the room, the billow of the candle’s former light, the open window’s steady breeze, now disrupted by the force of the door opening, before grumbling.  “We have a big, big problem!  I came running as fast as I could!  Lyn, I was so worried, when you didn’t answer, I… I-!”

“By the gods Fi, I’m fine.” he shut his eyes once more, running a hand through his hair.  He let out a sizable yawn and nodded, meeting her gaze with his own.  His soothing, deep brown eyes seemed to bring her down a few pulses.  “Well, go on.”

She nodded after a deep breath.  She took a step inside and shut the door, peering about before it slid into place with an affirming creak and a thud.  She turned back to him.  “There was another murder last night.  This one, for sure, is right up our alley, like the others.  Any time there is talk of death, it makes me remember how happy I am to have you-”

“Did we miss it?  In the forelands?  There were no reports, and surely…” he interrupted her building sentiment.  She sighed, used to being brushed off.   
“Th..that’s not it, Lyn.  This one was in Limsa Lominsa.”

He looked at her, puzzled.  “Limsa Lominsa?  Why, that’s half a world away!  Impossible!  No threat has ever even left coerthas.  Unless…” he looked down gravely.

She nodded.  “Brygym believes it a new threat.”

He paused a moment before a look of frustration took over his face.  “Three months, it’s been… we’ve nothing to show for our first investigation yet for suspects, and now this…”

“That’s not true!  You get closer every time!  You’re so smart!  And amazing!  A-and.. Soon I know you’ll get this guy!” she began to gush once more in his presence.  He raised a hand and waved it to the side.

“Please, Fi, enough… you know how I feel about all that.  I’m just me.”

“Lyniastas!  You are much more than you believe!  Why, if I could, y-you know I’d-” she looked down, digging the toe of her boot futily into the rug below, tugging at a finger, her tail curling around her leg.

“Aye, aye… I don’t care to know.  We’d best be off straight away, I suppose…” he inhaled as he shuffled to the edge of the bed, nearest his closet, rising to his feet with a large stretch.  His slender, fit features on full display, leaving little to the imagine beneath his tight small cloth shorts.  He exhaled as his arms fell to his sides, even at rest, his shapen abs were still in full form on the lanky frame.  After a moment, he looked a Fi’Teri, taking a step toward his closet, becoming confused.  She was staring at him, blankly, her tail furrowed and flailing about behind her, her ears a straight point upward.  Her hands slowly rose above her gaping mouth.

“Th-the.. You… I-I… it… m...my…” Fi’Teri sputtered nonsense at the sight before her.  He groaned, rolling his eyes before.

“You’ve known me for years, Fi.  It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.  Gads…” he walked over to his closet, procured another uniform which matched hers, and walked towards the other door to the restroom.  “I’ll be in here, lest you need time to get yourself together.”  He opened and shut the door quickly behind him, and the noise of shuffling fabric could be heard beyond.

“I...I didn’t think… real… realize… today I would s-see…” her mouth formed into a beaming smile as she quietly purred. “Oh, Lyn…”

\---

Together, they pressed on through the busy streets of Limsa Lominsa in the light of morning.  Their uniforms stood out amongst the commoner’s drab attire, as people always were sure to make room among their official capacity.  Before long, they stood before an alleyway, marked off with a large roegadyn standing watch.  As he surveyed those around, he found Lyniastas and Fi’Teri from a far distance, putting one hand on his hip and the other in a wave above his head.  His light green complexion offset his dark brown short hair, which flowed into a large beard that wrapped beneath his chin.

“Aye!  Lyn!  Fi!”

Fi’Teri looked to her elezen companion.  “There it is.”  She took her hand in his and pointed forward.  She took note of how warm it was, how firm his grip must be…

Lyniastas subtly broke their hands touching quickly and nodded.  “Yes, there’s the old giant himself.”

They walked up to him, and Lyniastas shook his massive hand.  “Brygym, please tell me…”

Brygym shook his head quickly as their handshake ended.  “I’ve no good news, lad.  The work of a demon for sure.”

“Nothing our Lyn can’t figure out, right!?” Fi’Teri attempted to lighten the building broodiness over the mood.  Brygym rolled his eyes, and Lyniastas looked away sighing.

“He’s just a lad, Fi.  Calm down.  You’d swear he was the Holy See himself the way you speak of him.”

“Shows how much you know about how amazing Lyn can be!” she puffed her cheeks and her tail stood straight out in protest.

“Aye, might we go inside?  I’ve lost enough rest to partake in idle chatter.” the elezen appeared annoyed.  Fi’Teri quickly pursed her lips, feeling amiss from upsetting her companion.

Brygym nodded, moving to the side to grant passage.  “You don’t even need an analyzer here.  Not much to see besides the obvious.  Tien is inside already.”

Fi’Teri scoffed.  “That coot?  What’s he doing here first before Lyn does all the work for him?”

Lyniastas held up one hand, again silencing the miqo’te.  “Tien keeps Lalieri grounded.  He’s valuable.

_ “I heard that.”  _ A voice resounded in his ear from the linkpearl he put back in as he left his room.

He laughed.  “You are our eye in the sky, Lali.  I expect you hear everything.  How goes things at home base?”

_ “You didn’t turn in your reports of your findings yesterday.  You are behind again.”  _ The cold, matter-of-factly voice echoed once more.  Fi’Teri scrunched her face at the hard, womanly voices’ remark.  Her linkpearl could be slightly visible from her own prominent ear.

Lyniastas laughed.  Pressing his finger against his ear, he said, “Aye, aye… you know I won’t let you down.  We’ve gone over detail-”

_ “The Dravanian Occult Society has rules in place, Lyn.  You cannot sidestep your responsibilities forever in favor of… whatever it is you do.  I expect them after you finish in Limsa Lominsa today.” _

The elezen was reminded of how tired he was at the thought of more work after this.  “Aye, I do owe it to you, I suppose…”

_ “You don’t suppose.  You know.  I will see you later.” _

As they turned the corner in the alley, he looked down at the crime before him.  Fi’Teri winced, yet his eyes remained fixated on the corpse before them.  He had seen these scenes enough times to be desensitized to them, no matter how ghastly.  In a corner, examining a broken wooden fence, a highlander hyur turned to look at who had come.  His straight face initially seemed to be one of sternness, perhaps anger.  His amber eyes had a piercing gaze matched with his firm, pursed lips.  He was unshaven, but perhaps intentionally so, as small, prickly sprouts of brown hair covered his head and face.  He seemed young, easily of age to be with Lyniastas and Fi’Teri.  He shared their same garb, an outfit bearing the same logo as the others.  Looking upon the moqi’te looking away in pain, he gasped and ran toward them, almost tripping over the corpse.  His stern, unapproachable expression quickly turned to one of sappy, excessive concern.

“My darling, Fi’Teri!  This is just too much for you to bear!  Why did that grouch Brygym let you back here!?  This is not a sight for a fine lady’s eye such as your own!”  He fell to his knees before her, taking her hand in both of his, pressing his forehead against her knuckles.

She wore a gross expression on her face, berating him.  “Gads, Tien!  What are you prattling on about!?  This is just unprofessional!  Why, every time, do you have to do this to me?”

Lynastias groaned, rolling his eyes and stepping forward beyond the brewing argument between the two.  He kneeled at the large, grey roegadyn corpse, beginning to take in minor detail.  The deceased was obviously an older gentlemen, gauged by the wrinkles in his face, and whiter hair, still naked.  He was familiar with the wide-open eyes, the grey haze that seemed to cloud over the corpse’s expressionless features.  Around the head, which lie facing the sky above, a perfect ring of ash extended around his head on the ground, almost like a burned-in halo.  It had a splash effect, like rays coming from the sun, around the ring.  Rigor mortis had set in, and the body lay still, yet below, Lynastias gazed below the man’s waist, he took note that he was still fully erect.  Upon it, the residue of bodily fluid could be seen, caked on to him standing at full attention.

His eye caught a parchment, seemingly threaded between the man’s fingers.  He leaned over, tugging at it until it broke free.  He opened it, eyeing the contents quickly, undisturbed as Tien continued to excessively pine over his one-sided affections for Fi’Teri.  The elezen eyed the parchment up and down with intensity and concern, seemingly perturbed by what he read.

“Lyn?  A-are you okay?” he was startled by the voice of Fi’Teri.  He scrambled, shoving the paper in the crease between the buttons of his uniform and into an inner-lined pocket.  He quickly stood, turning his head back to her.

“I am fine.” he shook his head.  “Besides the obvious on the corpse, Tien, what do you make of this?”

Tien, defeated from his attempts at the woman, stood nodding, getting back to work.  “There was a struggle for sure.  See over here?” he walked over to a broken crate.  “This didn’t break from rot.  It looks to be a clean, fresh break.  See how the inside of the wood is still white?  This sea air would quickly turn that damp and dark.  The breaks in his crate had to have just happened.”

The elezen nodded.  “Good catch.  I assume we already know we are dealing with a woman, based on the state of the body?”

“Aye.  That’s how we know they are not the same.  Distance aside, the, ah, fluids on the body imply that it is more than just saliva.”

Fi’Teri groaned.  “That’s gross, Tien!”

“That’s business, Fi.” the elezen reminded her.  “I see the fence here had your attention.”

“Well… yes.  If you look here, this stuff is made from elm timber.”

Lynastias nodded.  “Super tough stuff.”

“Too tough for what I have to explain.  Now, our suspect could have just walked right back out into the street, as the couple who found the man said they didn’t see anyone else, and who knows how long before he was found after the act… after all, even if it were moments prior, our suspect would only have to walk right out from the alley even a second before they walked in.”

“Aye…”

“But this elm shows the same as the crate.  No wear from the dew or wet Limsa air on the breaks.  We know what we are dealing with is supernatural… as she was able to most likely escape through this fence here. Look at the broken timber here.”  Tien stepped through the small gap to the other side, motioning the others toward a large piece.  An impression was left slightly below the break.  “This appears to be the point of impact.  By the impression, I’d say…”

“A shoulder.” Fi’Teri interjected.

Tien nodded.  “Aye.  And if we pick it up and align it with the break on the fence… our suspect is looking to be quite tall.”

Lyniastas looked down.  “So either… A roegadyn or an elezen.” he seemed to get a bit dark in his comment.

“Yes, that’s right.  Lastly…” Tien procured a bag from the inside pocket of his jacket.  “We found this.”  inside of the small, clear bag, a single strand of reddish-brown hair lie coiled lightly.  Lyniastas nodded slowly.  “It was caught in one of the pieces of elm, perhaps as they forced through, their head pressed against it, leaving the strand behind.  Perhaps, if the timing was right, they knew the body would be found quickly, and they struggled to get through.

“So we know they are female, a taller race, and have reddish-brown longer hair.”

“We actually know that she is an elezen.” Tien smiled sharply.

“How?” Fi’Teri interjected once more.

“This guy was a regular at a local bar.  Seems he would drink his sorrows away quite frequently.” A booming voice behind them spoke.  Brygym slowly approached with his steady strides.  “Last night, he was seen more down than usual, until a rather shapely woman came to his side and took him away.  He was last seen bumbling about in the bar like usual, following her.”

Lyniastas turned and nodded slowly at Brygym.  “Do they have a name?”

Brygym shook his head.  “Apparently she wasn’t one for talking much.  Barely got an order out of her, the bartender said.”

Fi’Teri pondered a moment.  “So, this regular at a bar is just going about his usual self, and this woman comes onto  _ him _ instead?  That’s not very lady-like at all.  So she takes him to this back alley, and does this, only to struggle in an escape?”

Lyniastas nodded.  “This has every making of a new possession.  Whoever this is, this must have been their first time.  To expose themselves so much to public eye, to run out of time in escape… none of this was calculated.  They only perhaps thought so much as their target, but not the means to do the job.  I’d say we have a new suspect for sure, and we should be glad to know we caught it now.  We are on their trail.”  He walked over to the corpse, eyeing the burnt halo once more.  “She pulls him back here, he probably forced himself unto her, pushing her to the crate, but she fought back.  She could, she had the strength, pinning him down.  He makes it a game, he’s having the time of his life, but when he’s about done, she pulls him in for the kill.  There must have been a sort of spell she spoke atop him as he lie here, looking at him, hence why the ash faces down to the ground.  It’s unmistakable.”

He walked back to the torn fence, his companions keeping eye on him.  “Just as she finishes, she hears the bustle of the street pouring into the alley.  She knows she has to get out.  She does not have enough of the demon’s power yet, so she did all she could… force her way out through this fence.  They are powerful, but they are still young.”

Fi’Teri interjected, “Based on what you’re saying, Lyn, we’re dealing with…”

He nodded, “Aye, a succubus.”

Tien shuddered.  “Curses.  A woman like that… she is not one to be trifled with.”

A voice rang in their ears again.   _ “We will move forward with Lyn’s side of things.  It sounds like a good starting place to investigate the scene.  Lyn, please gather a report, and be a dear and deliver it with your already late one.  The rest of you, continue to analyze the scene for additional detail.  This one is fresh.  We can get ahead still, unlike our other target, who continues to wreak havoc in Ishgard.” _

Brygym laughed, “Aye, Lali, you speak with such authority, how could a man ever say no to you?”

_ “They will rue the day they try.  I will see you soon, Lyn.” _

The elezen nodded, “Aye, Lalieri.  I shall.” He turned to his companions.  “This is a unique case, everyone.  Until now, our reaches only meant to investigate our northern reaches of Ishgard, yet now, it seems our expertise is unfortunately needed throughout Eorzea… as it appears the evils we are experts in are spreading.  We need to put a cap on this, and quickly.  Our other suspect to the north has been at it for three months and eluded us effortlessly, we could really use a win right now to prove our worth.”

Tien raised a fist, “Don’t you worry!  For Fi’Teri, I will make the Dravanian Occult Society heroes of the realm!” he shouted in self-appreciation.

Fi’Teri sighed.  “I only work this hard because of you, Lyniastas, not this cur.”

Brygym groaned.  “When are you all going to learn…?”

_ “They are helpless, Brygym.  It’s best to let them be.  However helpless they are in love, at least they’re all smart. Lalieri out.” _

\---

The stroke of a match brought a flame on the small timber between Lyniastas’ fingertips.  He navigated the small ember quickly to the wick of a fresh candle, now pressed in place over the waxy mound corpse of the one from this morning.  The room lit and shadows danced among a warm glow.  The window, now shut, held out the ferocity of Ishgard’s chilling night, yet it did not stop to press against the glass with howling winds to remind anyone inside of it’s presence.  The light of the full moon  now offset the flame, but as opposed to morning, the flame was the stronger victor and provider throughout the room.  He fell to his chair with an exasperated sigh, looking to the dancing shadows on the wall in reflection of his day.  After a few moments of appreciated silence, he undid the top two buttons of his uniform, reaching inside, procuring the parchment from earlier.  He unfolded it, leaning forward, attempting to press the seams against his hand with little luck.  He gazed upon the words ascribed in hurried ink.

_ “In my sadness, I beseech you, take my life. _

_ Find me, and hold me to the evil I have done, and yet to do. _

_ Kill this monster, tucked deep in my flesh, and set this body free. _

_ I am already beyond salvation.  You’ve now the chance to take evil to the beyond with me.” _

He read it, again and again, shaking his head each time.  He sat back, letting out another deep sigh, peering at the shadows once more.  Another moment of deafening silence.  He stood, and walked over to his bookcase, peering at the top shelf.  He ran his finger along the spines before stopping on the most harmless of books on the shelf,  _ “Introduction to aether” _ .  He tugged at it, freeing it from the pressure of the others, and turned, walking back and dropping to his chair.  The flame felt the force of the body against frame, and danced wildly at the sudden movement.  He swallowed hard, running his hand along the pages, from bottom to top, until a small gap caught his fingertip.  He opened the book beside the letter, revealing another letter pressed within the pages.  He nodded to himself and took the worn, yellowed parchment in his hands, unfolding it for review.

_ “Lyn, _

_ You know my answer.  I will never let you go.  I love you, I always will. _

_ Come, let us flee Ishgard, and your commitment to the Holy See to serve. _

_ I’ve family in Gridania, we would blend in as normal Elezen. _

_ We can be free. _

_ I will wait for you before they close the gate.  Carteneau will be a bloody mess.  Let us use this as means to be with one another, for eternity. _

_ -me” _

He swallowed hard once more, reading the condemning words.  He locked his eyes on the letter, the meaning, and his shallow commitment he made that day.  After another sigh, he took the new letter, placing it side by side with the old one for review.

“No…”

As he feared, the print matched with exact detail.  He ran his hands, side by side, line by line, peering about at every little nuance with every word.  Whoever wrote the first letter, it would appear wrote the second.

“It… it can’t be…”

His worst fear was confirmed.  One day into the investigation, and he had his primary suspect.  He rubbed his chin and flipped the book to a different place, easy to find while the book was open, as there was a gap between the pages in one place.  It revealed a photo, also showing age.  The edges were dented slightly, and there was a single crease on the bottom right corner.  Still, it was very sharp to view.

There was a slightly younger Lyniastas, with longer blond hair, smiling, looking down, his hand over a female elezen’s upper chest, gripping her against him from behind.  She had long reddish brown hair, a pale complexion, and deep, green eyes, looking up at him.  Her hand lie rested atop his, a ring of dazzling feature on her hand.  Her solemn happiness lept from the photo it was so apparent.

“What.. have you gotten into…?”

He took a long time peering at the photo, in deep memory of times past.  Slowly, he drifted to sleep on the chair, silently reflecting on what future might come should this continue.  The candle continued to paint lively images of light and dark on the wall.


	4. His Secret, Her Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She continues to struggle in accepting her fate. But what of another showing her a kind hand, only to be thrown into the middle of strife as a result?

_ “It’s been two weeks, girl.  You need to get it together.” _

A deep rain fell over The Black Shroud just outside New Gridania.  Against a weathered fence, which represented an apparently forgotten boundary, the elezen sat, hugging her knees, her face buried in the loose seams of her dark coat.  A large rock face behind the fence implied it was used at one point likely to keep something in, not out.  Around the corner, a great gate, illuminated by lanterns beneath a rain cover, she had watched traffic to and from the city for days, unnoticed in her dark corner nearby.  She was chilled and shaking from the cold, as rain continued to pour over her as if she were resting beneath a waterfall.  The loud patter of water against the incredible green canopy above, albeit harsh and audible enough to echo throughout the lush vegetation below, there was a soothing rhythm to the ear in its boisterous percussion.

_ “You cannot embellish this forever.  We’ve work to do.  You prolong the inevitable staying, testing the limits of your body like this.” _

“Aye, and should I pass, would you not as well?  ‘Tis a favor I do to the world, then.” nearly, a strand of lightning shook the earth violently after illuminating the area in an impressive light.

_ “Don’t find favor so freely.  Have you not realized your stamina and strength in our union?  Simple matters of this planet’s environment hold little sway to actually harm you.  You do nothing but suffer here, so long as I remain.  It can never take your life.” _

A fierce wind did little to sway her draping, drenched hair.  The frigid air made her wince as it passed.  “To suffer it is, then.  Endlessly.”

A few moments of silence between the two passed, the rain continuing to pummel every surface below.

_ “What made you such a nerd, anyway?  I’ve noticed rummaging about that you’ve quite the knowledge for the dark artes.  You were practically begging to find me.” _

She perked up slightly, wearing a solemn expression.  “That…”

_ “Come now, don’t make me dive deeper in here.  Your thoughts are a convoluted mess enough as it is.  Given you’re not keeping me busy with real work, I’ve nothing better to do.  Also, I’ve been in that accursed book for ages, I am quite fond of nesting my existence somewhere else.” _

“I am a vessel to you.  My purpose has no import.”

_ “I’m just trying to lighten this mood.  Who sits in mud for days just crying?  You’re more pathetic than when I found you.  I’m taking it upon myself to at least motivate you to stand up and walk into the city.” _

“Might I ask you, then, why you were stuck in a book?  Perhaps that will serve better to break the ice.”

The voice in her head drew silence, leaving her to her sole emotion once more, until a bustle could be heard in a nearby grotto.  It was the first time since she arrived outside New Gridania that something out of the ordinary could be observed.  Slowly, she stood, the city gates to her nearby left, the bustle coming from around the rock face on her right.  She took careful, quiet steps, pressing her hand against the cool rock, peering around the corner as she leaned against the uneven wall.

_ “Okay, first of all, the rain enough makes it so you could be an elephant approaching whatever’s over there and no one would notice.  Second, your tits are so huge, leaning against  _ **_anything_ ** _ is going to do nothing for you.  Your welcome for that again, by the way.” _

The elezen shook off the comments and continued to press forward.  As she took one step forward, she came into sight of a group of soldiers, five or so, circled around one another.  They were throwing japes and general mockery at one another, seemingly gathered around something in the middle of their congregating.  Their entrance was obvious, there was another sturdy wall which matched the one to enter the city, but it extended from the massive rock she lie against.  Whomever built this structure decided it best to use the natural scenery to do the work for them, having the wall stop on one side then continue on here.  There was a door open at the gate, but a small one one might find in a house, nothing like the city’s grand entrance.

The men bore a bright yellow low-hanging overcoat uniform, that of the twin adder, based on the badge on their arms - two white snakes symmetrically twisted around a white flower with a deep green stem.  They also all had matching hats, tall, with a wide brim, also yellow.

The Two of the men held lanterns.  One took notice of her as she quickly reared back, but it was too late.  One of the soldiers immediately perked his head over and reached out a hand, pointing.

“Oye!  Did’ja see that?  Oye!  C’mere!” the man shouted to her.  Frantic, she peered about, before looking up at the rock face, and it’s impossibly steep, sharp features.  She heard footsteps approaching, as the reflection of light in the puddles danced vibrantly.  The loud voices calmed at the change of tone over them being watched.  It was apparent whatever they were up to, they did not want to be found.

“Gods, I know is all good n’ fun, but we can’t be caught like this!  We facin’ fierce punishment if we do.”

One man spoke up wearily.  “Y’know, I heard we doin’ this ‘cuz the commander was gettin’ caught a lil’ too close t’this one… rumor's are they were heavy pettin'."

A larger man, roegadyn, hissed, “Watch yer tongue!  Y’know the commander’s just waitin’ to hear ye speak up to grind ye to pulp!”

The first man shook his head.  “A-aye, but… if he cares so much why we havin’ to beat ‘er?  Shouldn't it be...”

The roegadyn took a step over, pushing the first man.  “Oye!  No one’s makin’ ye!  Walk away!  Ye either do ye job ‘r be punished fer abandonin’ it.  Who cares if he had his way with ‘er?  Our job is ta knock ‘er silly!”

“It ain’t worth it-”

The original man, still peering about for what he saw, shushed them.  “Shut it, it wasn’t an adder, but a woman.  Jus’ need to be sure.”

The man, an average hyur, turned the corner, lantern forward, peering at his surroundings.  The elezen was nowhere to be found.  He looked left, then forward, reaching his free hand under the brim of his hat, scratching his head.

Behind him, his compatriots called.  “Oye!  Yer mind playin’ tricks on ye?  Back ‘ere and let’s be done with it, then.  ‘Fore the wrong eyes lie upon us.”

He sighed, shrugging, and turned around.  As he walked back, a few pebbles tumbled down the large rock, unheard through the torrential downpour.  Above, the elezen struggled, gripping the side of the rock, gritting her teeth.

A chuckle resonated in her head.   _ “As I said, you’ll come to appreciate the benefits I give to you.  So selfless, I am…”  _ the voice continued to laugh.

“Silence… I’ve no need for such things… I would not be here… if it weren’t for you...” she grunted in-between words.  She peered above, noticing a small outcrop of slate nearby, a perfect perch to observe what may transpire below.  She squinted, her eyes pulsing a short burst of green, before reaching one hand upward, gripping the rock.  She could feel her fingertips clawing into the dense rock with force, giving her easy leverage.  The cool stream of water pouring down the uneven facade of rock meant nothing to the inhuman power in her fingers.

_ “Again, you can thank me any time.” _

She grunted pulling herself up, and in short time she pulled herself up to the ledge, kneeling, and looked upon the scene again.  Her large coat unevenly flopped, the threading challenged to flow freely from the weight it carried from being drenched.  She kneeled on one knee, hunching down to keep from being too apparent, regardless.  The rain continued to pour in the dusk, sheltering her presence from being noticed from the scene below.  The man had rejoined the others, and they were snickering amongst themselves again, looking down.  There was another smaller person, bearing the same uniform.

_ “Can you explain to me who these people with terrible fashion sense are?” _

“They are soldiers in the Order of the Twin Adder.  They are essentially a peacekeeping entity for the city of New Gridania, but rank and file, like a military body.  Every city-state has their own, save Ishgard.  The holy knights are a bit different.”

The smaller person in the middle was kneeling, their head low, or their hat pressed down on their face, it was hard to tell from her angle.  The men would lean in every few seconds, taunting the smaller one in the middle, pushing them or spitting on them.

_ “So I take it, this isn’t in their normal duties, then.” _

“I can’t imagine.”

The elezen continued to look on, as the jeers and shoves became kicks.  The person in the middle remained silent, taking the abuse in stride, without so much as a word.  The men became increasingly rowdy, taking seeming pleasure in the act.

_ “These are the kinds of people I need you to be taking on!  You could use a bit of sadistic abuse in you.” _

“It’s.. horrible, what they’re doing…” a tear formed in the lower rim of her eye, masked with little effort by the pouring rain that ran down her face.  Below, a large man, elezen, took a wind-up kick to the victim.  Laughs roared through the small enclave.

_ “Ugh, you… disgust me, being so helpless emotionally all you can do is watch and cry.” _

She raised a hand to rub the wetness from her face.  As she shut her eyes and pressed her hand against her face, she felt her knee give.  The precipice of rock she had perched herself upon was not sturdy, and was beginning to cave under her weight.  She snapped to attention, reacting by attempting to leap back.  As she extended her front leg for the back step, the rock crumbled beneath her effort, causing her weight to shift forward instead of back.  She frantically looked back extending an arm as she started to fall, but the rain clouded her vision and she was unable to find a grip on anything.  She tumbled, grazing the rock face on the way down nearly 10 yalms, landing into the soft, muddy earth with a resounding  _ thud _ on her stomach, as brittle stones  _ plunked _ into puddles all around her.  Her forehead rested on one arm, she lie motionless, her face concealed by her arm, buried in the earth.  A clash of thunder could be heard, though she did not see it.  Instead of japes, the only sound became the harsh rains once more.

_ “Still waiting for that thank you.  Especially for the part where your spine is, you know, not in pieces.  I’ll wait.” _

After a few moments, she lifted her other arm, pressing her hand against the slippery loam, lifting as the other arm joined in, pressing a hand near her waist, and with a groan, she moved from lying still to a kneel, slowly lifting her head, locking eyes with the group of men, all fixated on her in silence.  After a short, deep breath, she rose to her feet, seemingly unscathed.

“O...oye, lass, wh…” one man broke the silence.

“I told ye!  She’s th’ one I saw!” the same man from earlier interrupted.  “I ain’t crazy!”

“Stay your tongues, men.  We’ve a witness.” a large roegadyn took a step forward from the group, five yalms from where she stood, looking upon him, motionless, her arms at her sides.  “Sorry lass, hate to break it to ye, but we’ve got orders to remain unseen an’ you are in the way of that.  Ye, eh…” he gazed upon her dress, her wet cleavage readily exposed, “...don’t seem the type to dress for the weather, but no matter.  The lala woman ain’t goin’ nowhere.  Come, men!”

He quickly drew a short sword from a sheath in his coat as he took quick, lumbering steps towards the elezen.  She still did not move, her eyes still fixated on the approaching giant, her lips unwavering.  The rain continued a pounding rhythm around her.  She could feel the tremors of his feet as he bounded ahead.

“Wh...why would you… hurt someone.. Like this?  A Lalafell woman…?” she muttered under a weak breath, not audible enough for a fly.

_ “Yeah, this is no time to discuss that.  Sorry, but I’m going to take a bit of liberty here, for both of our sakes.” _

The roegadyn wound up a strike with his final step to close on her position.  Behind him, the other men had drawn weapons - swords, spears, even gauntlets, and approached behind her.  The small woman lie in a heap on the wet earth unmoving, her hat obscuring her face still, save a bit of bright blue hair that lie exposed, tarnished in mud.

As the roegadyn’s blade began its descent unto the elezen, her gaze became an intense focus, snapping to attention.  For a moment, her eyes flared a luminous green.  Her feet moved at great speed, shuffling beneath her, her left foot shuffled back, her right forward.  She leaned in her new forward direction, extending her right hand toward the roegadyn.  Time seemingly moved in slower motion to the elezen as the blade whiffed at her backside, her arm gracing his elbow.  She smirked as her hand clenched into a fist, making forced contact to his elbow, hyperextending it with a loud pop, bending in in the wrong direction.  The hulking attacker winced in pain as time seemingly sped back to normal, the sword falling to the ground as he yelped, grabbing his now limp appendage.

“Y-you!  Curse you!  Ahn-damn it all!  Go!  Slice her to b-bits!” he held his arm cradled in the other, roaring at his allies, taking careless steps backwards away from her.  She still stood before them, fist forward, eyeing the remainder of the men in yellow jackets, their weapons drawn.  Her breath level, her heart pounding, she awaited the next attempt at her life.

_ “Works a bit better than crying, doesn’t it?  You’re the alive one and, twisted as it is, there is the justice your sad self wanted.  I’m not privy to helping anyone but myself, but sometimes you do what you have to do…” _

Another attacker approached, a young hyur with a lance.  He shouted as he approached at full speed, spearpoint first.  His steps frantic, he aimed straight for her body.

_ “Poor boy.  I suppose there is only one way to learn how to use a pointy stick correctly.” _

She stood still, in pose, unintimidated by the man.  Just as the tip of the spear was to graze her coat, she dropped slightly, time slowing down once more, bending at the knee, and lept in the air with an inhuman acrobatic finesse.  She turned, extending her hand, grabbing the weathered wooden shaft of the weapon and prying it from his hands as he stared in amazement at her physical feat, mouth gaping open.  The rest remained at a distance, watching in awe.  She cleared the boy’s head and tall hat with seemingly little effort, swinging her legs up and over her head, coming down full circle to plant a yalm behind him.  As both of her legs in perfect circular form sliced through the air, water flung from her boot and leg, accenting the motion.

She stood behind him, spear in hand, as he turned, gasping in horror at her fixed, emotionless gaze in his direction.  She held the spear in front of her, between the two, the shaft between them, the spear’s tip to the side.  With another clench of her fist, the brittle wood ached and groaned, splintering to bits within her palm.  The two halves fell to the ground with light  _ plips _ onto the moist earth.

_ “Are all weapons your meager civilization create really this feeble?  This is the most fun I’ve had in ages!”  _ the voice let out a cackle of glee in the elezen’s ears only.

The boy turned, backing away from the elezen, still he wore abject fear on his face.  Unsteady steps backed him back into the rock wall she fell from.  No longer a threat, she turned her head, her back still turned to the others, still weapons drawn.  Six remained, including the original attacker.  As she turned her head, they all gasped, pulling their weapons at full draw, unmoving.  Behind them, the roegadyn surveyed his arm, still a dangling extension from his body, unresponsive to his command to move.  Each attempt, he grunted and winced in intense pain.

“G...Gods be damned… what are ye-?” another bolt of lightning flung across the sky, met with an affirmative crackle that pierced the ears of everyone in the alcove.  She said nothing in return, only turned to face them.  They all reacted to her turning, taking steps backward from her.  The hyur against the rock wall ran out into the woods without a peep.

“B...b...boss!” one of the remaining men stammered.  He was another roegadyn, his size not a match for his bravery, unlike his leader.  “Th..this ain’ worth it!  She’s learned her lesson, the commander said t’juss rough her up a bit…”   
  
“Yeah, boss, we gotta get outta here!” another chimed in, a hyur, quite aged.  His sword shook as the words sputtered from his mouth.

The elezen looked to the crumpled heap a few yalms forward, between her and her company.  He looked down at the light blue hair beneath the creased hat, and turned her head as she also saw a hand poking out from the yellow fabric.  The small fingers on lightly brown skin shook, extending slightly, but continue to fall, leaving ripples in the puddle the body sat in.  She looked up at the men again.

“Why…?  Why would you hurt someone…?” she said, oddly quiet, given her power, but firm all the same.  The men murmured amongst themselves as she took slow, steady steps forward, eyeing the men.  For every step forward she took with a slick heel into the mud, the men took care with another step back.

“The commander’s orders!  W...we ain’t got no stake here!  He hates Lala’s!  ‘Specially the women!  They ain’ got no place in the adders!” the pained roegadyn again cracked at her.

She shook her head.  “Based on how awful you all are… neither are you…” she looked despondently down, the Lalafell’s body at her feet.  She sighed as a frown came over her face.  She looked back up.

_ “Wow, girl!  I didn’t think you had that in you!”  _ the succubus giggled at the Elezen’s remark.

“T...Tch!” the Roegadyn turned towards the door.  “Let’s go, men!  She learned her lesson.  W-we ain’ got nothin’ t’do ‘ere!”

The men quickly reached, muttering nonsense about the elezen as they all ran for the door.  Their footsteps added additional wet  _ splunks  _ slightly more audible than the torrential rain that still surrounded them.  The first one swung the door open with all their strength, and the door creaked, slamming against the wall with a resounding  _ thud _ .  None looked back as the all poured through the small opening, leaving the elezen and the Lalafell at her feet as her night started, a pulsing rhythm of falling water from the sky.

The green in her eyes slowly faded back to grey.  The elezen blinked twice, exhaling sharply and falling to one knee.  Her breath became short, as the power she once held was sapped from her body, exhausting her.  She felt her muscles ache - the sudden leaps, the fall, breaking wood with her bare hands… it was as if all of the pain her fervor was able to ignore had finally found its way to her nerves.  She yelped in pain, lowering her head to the ground, still on one knee.

_ “Damn… guess I overdid it.” _

“N..ngh-!” the elezen clenched her her stomach, falling to her side.  Wincing, she opened her eyes to see the Lalafell slowly rising to a sit.  She had a bright bruise on her left cheek, undoubtedly from a boot earlier.  She slowly straightened her hat first, brushed her arms with the other, then turned her head, looking at her savior.

“Seems you wonder why the men would beat me so, but the bigger question is why you would go out of the way to save me?”

She attempted to speak, but the pain silenced her words to a meager whispering cry.  Her vision became blurry until it faded to darkness, the aggressive rain become a mere echo in the back of her mind.

…

“Come on!  What are you waiting for?”

She heard a small boy laughing in her head.  Her vision slowly returned, quickly eyeing her surroundings.  She was in a field, surrounded by flowers of light blue.  There was a nearby rolling green hill ahead, a forest behind her, the vibrant sun illuminating it all in a clear blue sky…

She shook her head, attempting to dispel the scene before her.  She knew she was unconscious, and this was a mere…

“Hey, dummy!  Keep up!”

Another laugh rang through her head as she looked to her right at a small boy, no older than six,  wearing a smile so large, his two missing front teeth were gaping holes his beaming expression.  He was a youthful elezen, wearing humble commoner’s cloth.  His messy, wavy yellow hair wisped in a gentle wind. He could hardly contain his excitement, hopping about and running toward the hill.  The elezen looked down at her hands, confirming as she expected.  The hands of a child.  Her dark blue sundress danced in the same breeze, her bare feet tickled by the gentle loam of green earth beneath them.  She looked up to see him increasing the distance between them, he clearly believed this to be a race, one she was sorely losing.  She took of fleet foot, in attempts to catch up.

“Betcha can’t catch me!” he continued up the hill with high energy.  She struggled to match.

“Wait!” the elezen sputtered, feeling her shortness of breath taking over.  He did not cease, so neither did she.  She stopped her desperate attempts to slow his speed, instead increasing her own.  The wind at her back, the gentle breeze was as a hand, guiding her effort.  She swore she could again feel the warm ray of the sun, blessing her face with a fulfilling tranquility as she ran...

The cat and mouse continued until the pitch of the hill beneath her feet slowed to level.  She looked down, determined to catch him, unaware that she had reached the top.  Unawares, she continued her pace.

“H-hey, whoa-!”

Unknowingly, she ran straight into the boy, causing them both to tumble to the ground with a  _ thud. _  After a moment of undisturbed wildlife, a nearby chirping bird, the rustle of nature embracing that same graceful wind… she looked upon him, rubbing his head, his golden hair flowing through his hands, his face winced.  He opened one eye, looking upon her.  After a moment, the same smile returned to his face, lying on the ground, and quickly escalated to uncontrollable laughter.  She could… almost feel herself doing the same.  After he appreciated the light mood, he rose to a seat, crossing his legs, pulling a nearby piece of tall grass, threading it between his lips, looking at the view from the hilltop.

“Well, this is what I wanted to show ya!” he pointed forward.  She rose to a seat as well, looking forward.

Not far, but quite a ways below them, the city of Ishgard could be seen in its entirety.  The bustle of the city could not be heard from where they sat.  A city bursting with life, obviously full of activity, yet from where they sat, a calming silence came to them in awe of appreciation of the scale of what they were witnessing.  Beside the city, a sprawling mountainside with it’s peak was also in full view, a large body of water, even plains past the city.  They could see for thousands of yalms in all directions.

“Someday, I’m gonna protect everyone in Ishgard!  They’ll see!” the boy looking down at the city with fierce determination.  “The Holy See himself will count me amongst his most trusted advisor.  I will walk the streets and people will know my name!”

She turned to him.  His gaze had not broken to the city below.  His determination turned serious.

“They will tell me… ‘Lyniastas, we are safe because of you.  Thank you!’” he looked at her, turning back to a warm smile.  “Don’tcha think I’ll make a good knight?”

She nodded, without a word.  He turned back, looking upon the grand city again.  “I don’t have a family to protect anymore, since… you know.  Ishgard is my family.  I am alive because of the grace of the Holy See looking over us, giving all they have to keep our home sacred, safe…”

“You’ll be there, too.  You’ll come with me to the royal knights, right?”  He turned to her.  As he did, she started to notice the deep green of the trees distort into the skyline behind.  She peered past him in concern, yet he did not notice, looking forward, almost frozen.  Her vision began to shake.  She looked down again at her hands, which began to stretch and fold as her vision continued to blur together. Frantically, she peered about, watching the whole landscape blend together, slowly streaking, fading away, darkening to a gradual black.  She returning to nothingness as she began.

“...You’ll be there, too.”

…

The elezen gasped, rising from her slumber.  Quickly, she peered about, taking in her surroundings once more.  The serenity was gone, replaced by a rather humble room.  A small fire cackled nearby, catching her attention immediately.  The embers showed age, as the two logs they consumed had not much left to give in the brick hearth.  She turned the other way, to her right, noticing a window.  It was dark outside, but she no longer heard the rain.  She then noticed she was in a rather large bed, covered in a thick blue wool sheet atop a thinner, white cloth.  She was dry.  The room had a door, open, revealing a small, simple living quarter.  A short wooden table and a simple red couch were all she could find.  Looking to the side of the bed, she saw a nightstand, the accursed tome lying upon it.

_ "Well, it’s about time.  I’ve been waiting.  Quick update - this little thing you saved somehow got you back here.  She’s been taking care of you for like, days, while you slept away dreaming of some little elezen boy.  Who’s Lyniastas anyway?” _

The elezen shook her head, as a feeble attempt to wave the voice away, but it was of course futile.  She ran a hand through her hair, then rested it on her head, which was pounding.  She closed her eyes and slowly rubbed a temple.

_ “She seems interested in you, perhaps too much so.  She even had a bit of curiosity regarding the book.  Relax, she’s not entitled to the privilege of helping me gain my power back, that’s still your job.  You are better equipped with your size, don’t think I am enamored by you or anything.  You’re just a better-” _

“I… that’s enough…” she said quietly, opening her eyes.  She then noticed a figure had entered the doorframe, standing with both hands gripping the frame, peering at her with nervous intent.  She was certainly a Lalafell, which was obvious by her stout size, but she donned brilliant, long, loose blue hair and eyes to match.  She had a darker complexion than the elezen, yet even darker freckles spotted her face.  She was in more casual wear, smallclothes with a dark leather vest and boots.  Past her short sleeves, her arms were littered with bright blue bruises, the same for her legs and face.  She did not speak, seemingly too shy to break the ice.  The elezen simply stared in return, unable to comprehend a proper greeting.

_ “Well look at this, emotionally incapable and socially incapable in the same room.” _ the succubus grumbled.

The elezen, incapable of feeling anything else, looked down, as tears started forming in her eyes.  “W...why did you save me… I am not-”

“Well, it’s only polite to return a favor.  Even if…” the Lalafell looked upon the snapping embers in the fire nearby.  “Even if I perhaps deserved such punishment…”

The elezen wiped her eye, looking at her in silence.  The small woman continued, walking into the room, pulling the covers flat at the side of the bed, evening them out for the elezen’s comfort.  “You may view me a victim, but just know that I provoke that treatment in being what I am.  ‘Tis a shame, being a wood wailer has done naught but aggravate the tension I feel for my race…”

The elezen did not comprehend.  “You are a person, like anyone else.”

“I am a Lalafell, one ambitious enough to don the twin adder banner, one daring enough to challenge every superior when given the chance, one dumb enough to even tell them… tell him when you’ve had enough of… having to love them...” she suddenly looked grim.

“Enough of what?”

The Lalafell broke eye contact again, a lone thread of blue hair obscuring her face.  She reached up, perching it behind her ear.  “My name is Namimami.  ‘Tis only polite I know yours.”

“I…” the elezen began, but could not finish through the slamming that began at the door in the other room.  It seems this was a rather small abode, if that was the front door.  Namimami jumped, looking toward the other room, then back at the elezen, placing one hand over her own lips, motioning silence.  The elezen nodded.  Namimami walked into the other room, quietly shutting the door behind her.  The elezen heard another door creak open, implying she allowed passage to her new visitor.

“You need to come quickly, Nami!  The commander knows you survived!  He is on the way!”

“He is more than welcome to come to me and do what must be done on his own.  I ordered this punishment, after all, to help him not have to love me anymore...”

“Nami, please.  You needn’t be the only one who answers for this.  This should be a happy time, you don’t deserve-”

“You do not get to decide.  I made this decision.  I must face its consequences.  He is confused, I am giving him purpose in moving on.”

There was a few moments of silence.  The elezen tested light movement in the bed, noting it was rather sturdy and did not creak.  She slowly shifted to the mattress’ edge and placed her feet on the floor, facing the window.

_ “Hey, don’t you forget about me.” _

The book lie on the nightstand on the other side of the bed.  She slowly rose to her feet in perfect silence, striding lightly to the other side of the bed.  More muffled voices could be heard.

“I’m doing this for your own good.” there were a conflict rising in the other room, as the beginning of a struggle could be heard.   
  
“N-no- mph!” Namimami’s voice became a muffled yell, as she struggled under the efforts of the bustle outside.  The elezen then heard steps, the door shutting, then silence.  She walked over to the door to the bedroom, opening it, and surveying the rest of the room.

Her view from the bed gave light a small living quarters - a table for eating, a couch with a bookshelf nearby, and there was not much more to the room, save an icebox and a small closet.  The table had shifted position and there was an obvious sign of scuffle as the rug on the floor was folded and uneven.  This room was illuminated by a number of candles that were littered about the corners and walls.

_ “The girl has issues.  Luckily, they are no longer our issues.  Let’s-” _ the succubus began before loud steps could be heard outside.  The elezen took issue and peered about, looking up at the joists and beams holding the structure together.

_ “I suppose this is a good call.” _ the elezen’s eyes quickly flashed a bright green, and she leapt straight from the floor to the rafters, quietly perching herself on one of the study beams, where it met a bent iron support.  She looked below as the door swung open once more, this time, a muscular, young hyur man walked in with shaven, light brown hair.  His expression bore intense fury, with strong, piercing eyes and firm, frowning lips.  His musculature burst out of a small white linen shirt and even tone could be witnessed from his long pants tucked into boots that came halfway up his leg below the knee.  At his waist, a belt housed a leather sheath for a sword.  He peered about the room as the candled fluttered, disturbed by the force of the door.

“Where is she?” he muttered, starting to rummage about the small apartment.  He opened the ice box, peering inside, before aggressively pushing his fist through the door, taking it clean off the hinges.  It clattered to the floor.  He growled moving over to the couch, picking it up effortlessly with one arm, before trusting it to the side, causing more ruckus which echoed in the rafters above.  He walked into the bedroom, slightly out of view, but more could be heard being strewn about.  He returned to the main room.

“Gods, this girl… she’ll ruin everything!  She... damn my heart...”  He grumbled under his breath.

“Commander!” quick footsteps on approach stopped at the entrance to the abode.  The elezen could see another, younger hyur, donned in the twin adder yellow uniform, salute the man inside.  The commander nodded.  “Aye?”

“Come outside!  She has been found!  Lievitz was attempting to prompt her escape!  He has been detained!”

“Aye, bring them both to me.  Now.” the boy nodded, being fleet of foot as set off.  The commander gritted his teeth, exhaling with force enough to growl.  “Damn that Lievitz, always cared too much ‘bout her, he did…”  He paced about the room in wait.

The elezen simply continued to watch on.

Before long, a few soldiers entered the room, the commander standing enough away to grant passage.  Two men bore an elezen man, long dark hair, in casual wear, one of his arms folded in each of their.  He had a fresh cut on his face, trickling blood down to his chin.  His head hung as he continued to struggle to free himself from their grasp.  Another man came in with a large sack, tossing it to the floor with a large thud.

A sack large enough to, say, hold a Lalafell.  The elezen inferred what lie within.

After tossing the sack, the twin adder soldier walked behind the struggling Lievitz and kicked his knees from behind, bringing him down to them.  The elezen man grunted in pain, still hanging his head low.

The commander looked upon him.  “This is how you would wish to defy me, Lievitz?  After everything?”

The elezen said nothing.  A lone drop of blood extended from his chin, meeting the floor with a small  _ plip _ .

“What did you expect?  That you could steal her away?  That you could change the decision she is making for her life?” the hyur slowly paced back and forth, each step creaked the floor with an affirmative  _ thud _ .  “She is no longer allowed to make that decision.  She has imparted that unto me.  And I chose for her.  Yet she still lives.  And you attempted to permit it, in defiance to me.”

“Y-you are sick.  A disgrace to Eorzea, let alone the wood wailers.” the elezen whispered.  The hyur snarled and brought his foot up into Lievitz’s stomach.  Lievitz responded with a “Oomph!” before hunching down his head to the floor in pain.

“I am the commander.  This did not happen on accident.  I am willing to do anything to pay the price leadership demands.”   
  
“Perhaps at one time,” the elezen forced between pained breaths.  “But now… this situation has reduced you to but a true demon.  She only wants… sh… she...”  The three soldiers that shared the room looked away uncomfortably.  The hyur took notice.

_ “I take offense to that, if any demon were in charge, they’d-” _ just as the voice echoed in the elezen’s head, the commander looked down to the elezen man.  He reached to his waist, drawing the sword.  It was still rather plain, yet sturdy steel that shimmered in the candlelight.  Without pause, he spun it in his hand, flipping the grip.  Taking the sword in both hands, he stepped forward, rising it above his head, and drove it down, plunging it into the Lievitz’s back.  Lievitz did not stir, did not groan, but notably, his strength was sapped from his struggle from the soldiers holding him.  The blade cut through the skin with little effort and noise.  The young soldiers winced at the act, yet the commander did not break his conviction.  He rose the blade as fast as he dropped it, a trickling stain of red splattering on the wall and rafters above, away from the elezen.  He plunged the blade into his back again, and again, each stride making the scene increasing greusome and blood continued to paint the wall, door, and rug, even upon himself, staining his white shirt with red splatter.  One man holding a limp arm intervened.

“C-commander, this… ye said we’d teach ‘im a lesson, not...” he extended a hand.

_ “I take it back.  He’d fit in fine where I’m from.” _

The hyur struck the blade through the corpse one more time, releasing it, leaving it in the back where Lievitz’s life once lie.  There was no doubt he did not survive.  The hyur stood at full height and turned around.  After a long inhale and exhale, he gripped his hands to fists, then released them.

“You all must leave.” he said quietly.  The men looked at eachother, receiving the one order they were more than happy to oblige.  They quickly released the man, and nervous, heavy, quick steps could be heard after they left the hiding elezen’s view.

For quite a few minutes, nothing changed.  The pool of blood Lievitz lie hunched over in continued to slowly grow, seeping into the rug, staining the wood under where it was disturbed from the earlier scuffle.  The hyur said nothing, staring blankly at the stone wall in front of him in deafening silence that consumed the room.  The candles continued to freely dance throughout.

“What a mess I’ve made.  There’s no amount of slaughter to be my salvation this time.” he muttered, sighing.  The sack continued to struggle near his feet in futility.  He peered down.  “I would do anything for you.  Why.. did I chose a path I cannot tread in reverse?”


	5. His Secret, Her Chase (Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of the struggle between man and duty, of woman and demon.

_ “Does everyone take such care in reflecting in life lost around here?  You cried for two weeks over a man you did not even know. I would rather not be stuck waiting that long for such a trivial/useless matter again.”  _ the elezen shook her head, ignoring the succubus.

The large sack shuffled and tossed about at his feet, a muffled vocal struggle of a woman within.  “H-hey!  Wh-wha..?” the voice within was surely Namimami.  The hyur commander snapped at attention, eyeing the large sack.  He peered about the entire area, then at the corpse, and finally the room. Then with intense focus, began to move;walking towards the front door and peered into the hallway outside.  The blanket of night proved to be useful. Seeing no onlookers,  he pushed the door shut, forcing it past the corpse’s legs.  He struggled, thrusting the door into the lifeless limbs a couple times before they gave way and buckled to the side.  With the door now shut, he gazed upon the sack. The tweed thread on top still tied in a tight knot, contained Namimami, who was still struggling within.  “L...let me out of here!  What’s going on!?”

The elezen looked on as the hyur walked over to the sack, picking it up over his shoulder, walking into the bedroom.  For a moment, the elezen still remain motionless perched in the rafters, taking note to any noises as to remain hidden.  She heard quite a bit of shuffling of sheets and fabric amidst Namimami’s protests of being released.

_ “Okay, I’m curious.  Let’s take a peek.” _

The elezen nodded, stepping from the rafter and bending at the knee as her feet met the floor, minimizing the impact.  She kneeled in silence for a moment, to ensure she did not alert the commander.  She stood, walking to the doorframe, her back against the wall.  She peered inside.

_ “Wow, what?  This guy gets it!” _

The hyur had his back to the door, standing over the struggling sack.  The bedsheets were tied to the frame of the bed, twisted like large ropes to the center of it.  He lifted the sack over his shoulder again as Namimami grunted.  He released the knot with his other hand, extended his arms over the bed, as sure enough, the Lalafell dropped to the mattress below.  Quickly, she took her footing and darted for the door attempting to make an audible sound to catch the attention of anyone.  The elezen pulling back out of view, but the small woman did not burst out as expected, and her efforts were silenced quickly.

  
“O...Oh gods, y-you… you killed Lievitz… y..you monster! I...I wanted to be the one!  Not him!  You said you-!” Her voice was cut off with a gasp.  The elezen slowly extended her neck, witnessing the commander thrust the small woman to the bed once more, leaping upon her, pinning her down.

“I am doing what must be done.  You know what needs to happen now.  I… we… this cannot go on any longer.”  His knees pressed against her small shoulders.  She cried in pain as he pinned down one of her arms with a large, overpowering hand, the other pulling the sheet to her wrist.  He threaded the sheet around, tying a knot to hold the arm in place.  He leaned to the other arm and did the same.  She squealed in protest.

“P-please Heran, w-we can make this work, please stop, please let me go…” Namimami begged for her life.  Heran, the commander, did not stir. He lifted himself off of her slightly, which ensued another struggle on her behalf.  He looked to her face, and with an open palm, slapped her, causing her to instantly cease her efforts.

“Th… this isn’t.. How… love...” she whispered, dazed from the strike.  He turned, pulling out one of her legs, tying another sheet to her ankle.  With finesse, he finished tying up both legs.  She no longer struggled, lying in the bed bound, her arms and legs tugged apart.  Her feeble strength was not match for the tight knots Heran had created.  Namimami felt her appendages grow cold, no doubt the blood flow restricted from how tightly they were tied.  The elezen continued to watch, curious as to what was unfold between the two/the commander and the Lalafell woman.

_ “No need to wonder.  I’ve seen what happens next a number of times.  Take note, you might need these skills!”  _ the succubus added.  The elezen paid no mind to the jeer.

Heran shifted off of the bed, causing the elezen to pull back which restricted her view a bit. He stood in front of the fire a moment, casting a dark glow of his shadow against the wall. The shadow seemed almost more like a painting in how well it captured his physique and menacing aura.  His arms glistened with sweat from the stress and physical strain he put into the acts, a couple rogue beads discovering the curves of his toned bicep.  His face was no different.

“My men tell me you survived because of a stranger?  Who did you hire to protect you?  Have you betrayed me so to confide in another?” his voice boomed throughout the small chamber, snarling at her.

“N...no one, Heran, she just… just appeared…” He exhaled sharply, looking to the window, shaking his head.  Peering upon her, he lifted a hand firmly and brought it down upon her cheek.  She squealed and winced as the contact echoed in the chamber with a  _slap_.

“Don’t you lie to me.  The decision has been made.  If you won’t allow my men to do, I-!” he snarled, stepping toward the bed, leaning over her, face to face.  He whispered darkly, “I will do it myself," resting a hand upon her stomach in a fist.

“N-no, Heran… N… your feelings, I was just... ” she gazed into his eyes, her cheek a bright red from his strike.  His expression instantly disarmed gazing into hers.  “G..Gods, this again…”

He panted, the excitement catching up to him, looking down upon her, strapped down.  Slowly, he gazed back up at her, eyeing her body’s every inch.  Starting with her blue, wide watery eyes, down to her round cheeks flushed a bright red, then continuing to the small curve of her chest where he paused for just a moment. He then continued to glance towards her torso which seamlessly connected to her wide set hips, having only a slight curvature to mark where they connected at the waist. His eyes widened as he then began to look at her legs which were tied apart leaving the large lips of her womanhood exposed and defenseless to him.  He took a hand, tracing upon her features.

“Not like this, Heran… no… this is what… got us… i...into...” she released a sigh, submitting lightly to his now gentle hand.

_ “What?  What am I watching right now?  What’s wrong with you people?  This is amazing!  He just killed a guy!  She knows it!  Now he’s going to… oh, delicious!”  _ the succubus threw more jeers in the head of the elezen, who continued to watch intently.

Heran did not speak.  He explored the body of the Lalafell even more with his large hand on her miniscule frame.  Her breath began to labor, and she kept her eyes on his, her mouth slightly open from the gasping breaths.  “Y..you know I cannot stop you… you know… I still love you so...” she whispered.  Fearing for her life, she knew she could not defy his will.

He nodded, his nerves removed from their edge, yet his body still tense.  He gently lifted himself, standing at the bedside.  He grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing a flawless landscape of sculpted muscle and curved tone.  His chest puffed out in full display, atop firm, curved abs.  He opened his eyes after lifting his shirt over his head, looking onto her once more.  “In the end, ‘tis the only thing I’ve ever wanted.  Not… what it has become.”

_ “My, now that is an impressive man, right there.” _

He wasted no time releasing the latch of his belt, donning an empty sheath.  As it fell, the fabric of his pants gave and began to fall with the belt.  He caught them before revealing what lie beneath.  He looked at her with wanting eyes, wrought with concern.  She understood his intentions.

“A..again, I know this drill…” she whispered nervously.  “Go ahead…” He nodded, picking up his shirt, walking over to her, and covered her eyes, leaving her nose and mouth exposed.  He gently tied a knot with the small sleeves behind her head.  She lie motionless, her sight lost now to her, she could only rely on her sense of touch and sounds to determine his actions going forward.  He then stood again at the edge of the bed to look upon her.  He had become unnaturally aloof as he undressed.  Confirming her sight was lost to her, he dropped his pants, which hung at his boots halfway down his leg below the knee..  As expected, the tone and care of his body did not change in his bulging thighs, yet the source of his insecurity and need to limit the woman’s sight became apparent.  There was one feature of him that did not share the qualities of the rest - what one would expect to be a veiny, throbbing, massive penis was nothing more than a slight stub, sticking straight out from between his legs.  It could not have been any longer than his own pinky finger.  He looked down in anger at his own incontinence before looking upon the woman tied up on the bed before him again.

_ “My, now that is an overcompensating man, right there.  Look at that little thing.  I’d be surprised if even  _ _ she _ _ could get off on that.” _

He stepped out of his boots, becoming naked before her, yet she lie shrouded in darkness.  He walked to the foot of the bed, mounting between her legs, one knee at at time.  Carefully, he gripped his small member between a few fingers, still shuffling gently closer to her.  His thighs slid beneath her, rising her torso a bit toward him.  When the strain on the linen binds strained the woodwork of the bed with gentle creaks from lifting her, he spread his legs wide, and leaned over her, using his other hand to grip her wide hips.

_ “You know, despite their size, they still carry quite the womanly figure down there.  Ironic that to her race, size means very little to pleasure, yet to him, where it should not be implied to be an issue, it is!  Why, I think she has more curve to her than you did before I had my way with you!”  _ the succubus laughed her familiar cackle.

Though it might be small, Heran’s penis was fully erect, a small, solid shaft extending from his hips.  He pressed it against her, the muscles of his legs flexing, exposing vein and tone alike, as the shaft travelled from the bottom to the top of her slit, opening her lips to accept him.  He did not enter her, rather he gently ran the meager length of his shaft slowly up and down in the folds of her outer lips.  His moaned lightly, yet she was already squirming in ecstasy over his efforts.  Every time the soft tip of his shaft pressed against her clitoris, she was powerless to stop the gasping moan from escaping her lips.

_ “Well, I stand corrected.  Size isn’t everything.  Unless the girl is just delusional over whatever ‘love’ these two believe they share.  There is a first for everything, I suppose.” _

He felt the slight tingle on his shaft pulse through him as he felt the light, warm wetness between her folds cover it.  He continued to tease entry by the thrusts pressing him up and down, continuing to graze over her pleasure center.  A single bead of sweat fell slowly from his temple down his cheek, his gruff moans growing increasingly audible.

“You know I’m plenty ready, love… I’m just begging to feel you inside me.” Namimami moaned as she gripped the cloth straps that bound her arms.  “I-it’s okay, I know your true feelings, still…”

He nodded in reply, despite her not being able to see.  “I’m a monster… how I’ve served merely to disappoint you by ordering your demise.  I am bound to be what I am.  I cannot show my love for you to the world, lest...”

She shook her head, the veil unmoving from her eyes.  “You are my monster this night, as you were many nights before.  I know who you really are.  I know you are a man.  And a real man does not keep a lady wanting.”

He looked down, aligning the shaft to the familiar fold at the base of her legs.  He lifted his hand, laying it upon an erect nipple on her chest, leaning forward.  As he leaned in, entering her, they both moaned in unison.  Her grip on the cloth becoming increasingly tight and her toes curled as she felt the intense liberation of finally feeling him inside of her.  He gritted his teeth, attempting to control his expressions of pleasure.  As the joined together, they felt their hips touch as he fully inserted himself into her.  For a moment, they remained still.  He was looking upon her, his gaze appeared equal parts relief and guilt, through pressing breaths.  He lifted the hand on her breast, lightly grazing his thumb over her nipples, causing her to squirm again.

“M-my love, I…” Heran began.

“Shh..” a smile broke through below the veil.  “You know actions speak louder than words now.”

He swallowed his statement, slowly leaning back, maintaining a tight grip on her one hip.  The fingers on his other hand continued to dance over the delicate nipple.  Every exhale the two forced out was met with an equal, forced, audible inhale, as the passion of the act took over.

He thrust into her once more, this time with increased force.  Her struggle continued with the bindings as she squealed with delight.  The bed creaked in protest, yet this went unnoticed to the pair.  His back arched as his he shut his eyes, his head jutting upward.

Again, and again, he continued to press his small, erect shaft as deep into her as his incredible strength would allow.  The bed groaned and whined at the large man’s efforts.  Before him, the small woman was practically screeching in pure bliss, high-pitched squeals with every effort to penetrate her, equal only to his deep, loud moans.

He leaned in, and their lips met in passionate kiss, their tongues entwined in romantic gesture.  This contested with their labored breaths and moans.  His grip on her breast tightened again, lightly pinching her dark, protruding nipple.

He broke the kiss, feeling his knees become weak.  His hips began to shake violently, his back arching again.  She knew what came next.  “Do it, Heran!  Be a man and finish, filling me up with your seed!  You know it matters not-!”

“N-no, love!”  Heran’s voice shook in apparent, hurried guilt.  He lept from the bed to a stand, groaning, holding his tiny shaft between his finger as he felt the rush of orgasm taking him into throbbing bliss.

_ “There is your chance!  Go, girl!” _

The elezen moved with swift steps, blindsiding the massive hyur.  As he groaned, expecting release, she turned his shoulders, leaping upon him, bringing him too the floor with a loud thud.  The embers of the fireplace near their heads were not perturbed by the sudden fall.  His vulnerable state left him in awe, and he was paralyzed to act, gazing upon her chest and curved features, before fixating on her glare.  His surprise at her presence shocked him as she quickly chanted her spell in a whisper, feeling the consciousness wrap together.

As their vision faded, a lone voice, “Heran…?” could be heard from the bedside.

…

The elezen’s sight returned to a room of dark all around her.  She peered about intently, noting she was still fully clothed.  The ground felt hard, like stone.  The air was still, yet incredibly warm.  After a few more moment of careful observation in the darkness, looking for signs, a burst of flame  _ FWOOSHED _ nearby, causing the elezen to raise her arms in defense.  An intense heat poured over her, before receding quickly.  She peered through her arms, seeing two braziers, red flames reaching high from them.  Between them, a man kneeled facing away from her, shackled by chains.  The two shackles at his feet bound him to the floor, but two shackles had chains that extended upward into the darkness, holding his arms up.  His head hung low.  His physique confirmed it must be Heran.  She could also confirm the ground was stone.

The man tugged at both of his arms, the chains rattling, echoing throughout the space.  He groaned.  “Don’t keep me waiting, demon.  I’ve waited long enough.”

She walked over to him, with careful steps.  He did not stir much, save the light swing of chains above going to and fro from his prior movement.  The braziers continued a bright, vibrant flame.  She stopped her paces just behind him.  He could her her footsteps knowing she was close.  He smirked.

“Just how many bad decisions is a man allowed in his life?” he said, smirking.  I’ve spent what feels like an eternity never knowing which way to proceed.  Living my life one unthinkable decision after the next.  And even after all that, what do those Adders do?  They promote me!  Aye, I’ve snuffed out a lot of life in my ride to the top, with reckless abandon for anyone before me.”

The chains ruffled as he looked to the side.  The braziers seemed to get brighter, illuminating a bit more of the space.  “Yet, I gave no regard.  Heh… no.  Why should I?  There was one crippling weakness I had, and never would any man in uniform bear witness.  My… my sexual prowess.  It was the one thing I could never give any woman.  They lined up, one by one, swearing by and by they could make it work.  But, in the end, I was but a mockery… a target to their eventual mockery at the lack of my intimate blessing.”

He growled.  The braziers grew lighter still.  The elezen strained her eyes, but could see patterns lining the floor and ceiling, but could not make out their purpose.  She looked upon him again, his breath increasingly labored.

“Eh… heh… but could they question a tyrant?  Would they come to cross with a man known for his ruthless endeavors in taking lives?  I had only one way to maintain my status.  To be as I was.  To never stop… to never stop killing.  Rising.  Being feared.  That way, no woman could ever dare say I was otherwise… or risk… heh…”

The patterns became more apparent.  Now, she could see the confines of the room - nothing more than a bare prison.  The patterns appeared to be in a dark brown color, with no rhyme or reason.

“Then she came along, that damn Lalafell.  There’s a stigma, you know, for men.  Any man dumb enough to court a Lalafell, it is a joke that they only do so due to their… size.  I was a walking stereotype.  Yet, she did not care for the facade I created.  The tyrant, the bully.  Aye, she… she willed to be with me for my strength, but as a means of providing, not to take.  She refused to see me in any other light but the one she put on me.  I could not dissuade her.  Quickly, she… overcame me.”

The room was fairly illuminated now.  The elezen became suddenly aware the patterns were drawn in dried blood.  Everything from incomprehensible splatter, to mundane drawing of people, but there was one thing she saw everywhere.  Phallic images of varying size and length, all over the room.  In his head, he had painted a sick obsession.

“She came to me, one night, always the chipper administrative assistant.  I was heavy on drink, and not thinking.  I… made her mine.  I took her in my arms.  We shared incredible passion.  I wept, and wept.  I felt my life coming before me, everything became so clear.  This is what I wanted.  Yet… based on who I have become, what I had already done, I was already in too deep. I could not allow her to step any farther into my dark heart.  I cast her out.  To save her… I had to set an example… I had to hurt her.  I….”

He growled at his retrospective.  His hands became shaking fists.  He did not speak a moment, the chains mounted to the wooden ceiling enclosure singing a metallic clanging tune.

“I may have sinned, yet… now, we are here, and you will be taking her away from me.  You… you demon…”

“I am no demon, Heran.”

“I care not.  There is only one thing I wish of you.  It’s…”

He looked up, shouting her name.  “Namimami!  Witness my love!” He strained his arms back, then forward, snapping the chains that bound them with a resounding  _ snap. _  He growled, rising to his feet, turning his torso toward the elezen, his eyes imbued with a red tinge.  His breaths labored to a grunt with each exhale, the elezen took a step back in defense.

“It will help you not.  You cannot take her away from me!  Rage, give me strength!” He lurched at her, unaffected by the pull his leg bindings gave, and they too snapped in similar fashion.  The elezen attempted to step farther back, but could not combat his intense speed.  He caught her, pushing her to the floor as he mounted her, his hands on her neck.  She could feel the force of his fingers digging into her flesh.

“You can’t have her!  You can’t take her!  She is mine!  She is mine!” He continued insane screeching as her breath became short, she could feel her body aching for more oxygen.

_ “Alright, that’s quite enough.” _

Tears flowed from his eyes as he continued his vain attempt at her life.  The elezen observed he was not longer breathing, with each attemptcame a pained expression, his teeth in full grit.  Within moments, his eyes shut, and she felt the grip release from her long neck slowly.  His form began to become a red sort of aether, which slowly seeped into her skin as he slunk into nothingness.

_ “Ah, rage.  This will be handy.  But not now.” _

As the last of Heran’s aetherial remains became absorbed, the elezen’s eyes restored another shade of her natural green.  This brought a little more life to the stone grey they had become since her fateful encounter.  Instantly, she gritted her teeth in anger, wasting not time feeling the emotion come over her.

“You!  You demon!  Heathen!  You make me take these lives for your own benefit!  You do nothing but kill!  Kill!  KILL!  Where are you? Where is your true form?  Come to me, and I will end your existence just as you’ve done with so many others!  I care not for my own life anymore!  I will throw myself to the fire!”

The elezen stood, looking upon the brazier.  She took intentful strides towards the flame.

_ “Now, now, there’s no need for that.  Besides, your work here is done.  Good job.  Besides, should you not be looking to survive, to see your precious Lynastias again?” _

The elezen stopped mid-step.  Her expression reverted to a blank gaze.

_ “Ah, good.  You’ve no way to express your feelings for him.  At least that’s a good reset button for now.  Come, come.” _

“H...How do you…”

_ “You think I can’t see you dreams?  Surely you understand now that your consciousness is wrapped intently with mine?” _

The elezen sighed, her blank stare unmoving.

…

She lifted her head, looking down at Haren, his eyes glossed over with grey film, an ashy halo around his head.  She stood, stepping over him, noting his member still stood at meager full attention, drenched in his seed.  He lie motionless.  She grit her teeth once more in disgust over her actions, bringing her hand to a fist.  Before she could act on her aggression, a voice interrupted.

“Haren, darling, where have you gone…?”

The elezen looked upon the Lalafell, still tied to the bed, her eyes still covered.  She had no inkling of what had just transpired.

“I heard a thump, a-are you okay…?”

_ “Oh, this is too rich.  She’s yours for the taking.  Do it.” _

The elezen did not move in protest.

_ “Seriously?  You cannot fight me, girl.  Do not make me take control again.  Or did you forget I left your body in a state of exhaustion so bad you passed out?” _

The elezen snarled under her breath.  She took the step necessary to the foot of the bed, looking upon the bare body tied up before her.  The Lalafell’s legs squirmed to and fro, lightly rubbing the lips of her womanhood back and forth below a light blue bush of hair.  Her hands, bound, remained as fists, and she bit her lip in anticipation.  The elezen took last notice of Namimami’s puffy nipples, protruding not only at their tip but the dark areolas themselves seemed to stick out.  The elezen leaned over the bed, her breath fleeting upon the slit between Namimami’s legs.  She shuddered and moaned feeling the breath upon her.

“O-oh… I know you never forget how much I… I love your tongue…”

_ “Well, if she’s going to just spell it out for you…” _

The elezen parted her lips, exposing her tongue, pressing it against the small labia before her face.  She was instantly greeted with a gasp of pleasure above at the mere touch, as the tied up body convulsed in pleasure.  She finished running her tongue from the bottom to the top, taking note of the small button of a clitoris peeking out.

“Y-yes… there… suck me dry…” the blindfolded captive said.

The elezen obeyed, pressing her full lips against her body.  She wrapped her tongue around the small mound, applying pressure with a light sucking.  Namimami continued to squirm and press into the elezen’s mouth, grinding their lips against each other.

“M..More-!  More!  Ahn-!”

The elezen plunged her tongue into the lalafell.  The tightness brought on by her size was apparent - the elzen felt half her tongue alone was adequate to fill the slippery confines within the Lalafell’s heated slit.  Despite the small woman’s round, generous hips and large lips, the inside of her was surprisingly shallow.  She plunged her tongue in and out of the small gap, rising a single finger to rub her clitoris in a light circle at the same time.

She squealed with delight.  “Y-yes!  Oh, you know just to thing to make me… m-make… me-!”

_ “Wow, already?  It matters not that most of the work was done for us.  Don’t miss your chance!” _

Just as she witnessed the small body shake, Namimami inhaled sharply and was ready for release.  The elezen lept onto the bed, throwing the blindfold to the side, pulling it up and over her head.  Namimami opened her eyes in shock at the view, already feeling the release of orgasm sweeping over her as her face contorted in equal part sexual release and confusion.  The elezen quickly recited her chant, and her consciousness was swept away once more.

…

The elezen peered about.  She noted the tone of this place much different than the last, she was in a field of flowers.  There was a notable sweet breeze in the air.  The plain of rolling pedals seemed to stretch endlessly.  Ahead of her, she saw a Lalafell of long blue hair, kneeling, picking flowers, humming a light tune.  She wore a light white sundress and a sunhat woven from thick, light brown straw.  She looked up at the elezen, happily waving, calling her over.

“Oye, friend!  Come to me!” she no longer donned bruises on her body.  She laughed, throwing a set of flowers to the air, watching the breeze carry them away.  The elezen carefully approached the woman.

“Namimami…” the elezen said quietly.  The Lalafell closed her eyes, shaking her head.

“I would like to ask you something.  You’ve come to kill me, right?”

The elezen turned away.  “It’s not like that.”

“But I am going to die?”

The elezen felt a dark sadness come over her.  Slowly, she nodded, not making eye contact.

Namimami sighed, nodding, her smile unrelenting.  “Then let me be the first to say, thank you.”

The elezen looked upon her with a blank face.  “What?”

“Thank you!  I did not want saving in the rain, despite your efforts.  I also was praying Heran had it in him to finally do what he had to do.”

“What.. he had to do?”

“I love him, you know.  Heran, deep inside of the callous of his heart, there is a real man.  Of course, no one dare cross him, but I knew.  I had in-tu-it-ion!” with every syllable she took one finger and poked her forehead, laughing.

“But I also knew that in being with me, he would only come to know deeper sorrow.  Sorrow that, in turn, would only serve to push him deeper into darkness.” She looked past, to the endless rolling hills painted every color imaginable.

“I know what you’re thinking.  Why not just leave?  Disappear?  Break up?” She looked to the clear blue sky, a warm sun kissing her soft, dark skin.  “You’ve seen enough of Heran to know not only is he defensive of me to a point of killing, but to disappear would put him in a frenzy.  It would only cause more pain.  So I had him influenced by his peers to make the decision to let me go.  Little did I know it meant certain death, yet… if it meant to heal him, I would do anything.”

The elezen fought back her tears.  Namimami walked over to her, placing a hand on her knee, smiling up at her.  “Please, stop.  I am happy you have chosen me.  Please, let me go.  Please do what it takes to end my life, and release his soul from torment.  Besides, what came next for him from me… it would have destroyed him...”

“It’s not that, it’s… Heran, he… I…” the elezen could not find the words.

“He found out I was pregnant.”

“He… wh-what?” the elezen asked again.

“Why do you think his violence escalated in my capture?  Why do believe his tolerance short for our hidden passion?  Why… there was about to be living proof what we had existed, his emasculation would be on full display in me bearing a child…  _ his  _ child...”

The elezen took a step back.

“He wished me to miscarry, hence the.. Beatings ensued… what you just saw, he… he was planning to do the deed himself.  Pull the child right from me, no matter how small.  But, as it always does, passion… it takes over him.  He couldn’t do what he need to do to save himself...”

The elezen had no response.  Namimami took another step forward.

“Please, no more.  I’ve waited long enough to know eternal slumber.  Do it, elezen.  Now!” she tugged at the elezen’s coat, a begging plead in her eye.  “I’ve no hold on the child in me either… Take it with me, free him!”

_ “Well, it matters not either way to me.  A soul is a soul.” _

The elezen kneeled, placing her hand on Namimami’s, a tear streaming down her face in regret for what she must do.  With one last warm, accepting smile, Namimami began to fade to a bright blue, like her hair, slowly assimilating into the elezen.  She noticed around her abdomen, Namimami exposed a pure white aether which contrasted her light blue.  Before long, she was gone, as the elezen’s hand coupled with nothing.

The elezen, after a moment, fell to her side.  She began to laugh uncontrollably.  She rolled through the flowers, screeching laughter all the way.  Tears poured down her face as fond memories flushed through her mind, but also realizing their cost at Namimami’s life.  It was a conflicted, yet unrelent laugh all the same.  She rolled to her back, staring at the clear, warm sky.

“There could have been another way.  For them all to survive.  I killed an unborn child.  A child!”

_ “Their fate was decided before we even intervened.  They would have destroyed one another in their so called ‘love’.  I am glad our feast only brought the inevitable to light quicker.” _

“You know nothing of happiness, demon?”

_ “I know nothing of the sort.  I only know pleasure, in sex, and in pain.  Is that happiness?” _

“Truly, you are the one who suffers alone.  I know this now.”

_ “As if you’re done taking lives on my behalf?  Good luck with that.” _

…

The elezen came to, facing Namimami’s cold, lifeless body, still strapped to the bed.  Haren’s corpse lie a crumpled heap near the bed, still as well.  The elezen moved from the bed, standing.  Dawn was fast approaching through the window outside.  The fire in the hearth was but two black, ashy logs, sputtering smoke now.  The elezen looked to the bodies, swallowing hard, gritting her teeth.

“What you make me do makes me so angry.”

_ “What I make you do is the only thing that will keep you alive.” _

The elezen walked over to the book, which lie on the floor open.  As she picked it up, she noted a quill and ink with parchment lie near the nightstand, the ink spilled over from it’s small glass base.  She walked over to it, taking the quill in hand and a parchment, she shut her eyes and began to furiously write.

_ “H-hey!  What are you up to!?” _

“I’ve to leave a memory of what I’ve done.”

_ “You leave evidence to condemn yourself.” _

“I leave what absolves me from the crimes you force me to commit.” she continued to hastily scribble.

_ “What you put to parchment matters little to me - I am not concerned with your absolution, only my power.” _

“I am aware of your kind.  You will never come to know true compassion.  ‘Tis why you struggle to understand any of what happens before you.”

_ “To say you know anything at all about what I might be is an insult.  You believe my purpose, my being can be defined and maintained in this meager mind?  To comprehend me takes far greater capacity you will never know.” _

“I know more of you than you realize.  I will show you next.”

_ “Yes, you’d best.” _

The elezen dropped the note, standing to her feet, turning, then opening her eyes.  As she made for the door, loud footsteps could be heard outside with clamouring voices.

“Aye, the commander is in here!”   
  
“I been keepin’ watch at the gate, sir, no one has left the building since!  He  must still be inside!”

The feet scrambled to the front door to the apartment.  Thinking quickly, the elezen made for the window.

“G-gads, blood, a pool spilling into the hallway.  Careful, everyone.  Haren, are you in there?  We’re coming in!” under his breath, a man ordered, “Do it.”

The elezen lept from the floor, putting a single shoulder forward, crashing through the window.  It took a great amount of force, but she tumbled out, eyeing her surroundings.   
  
This was an apartment on a high floor.  The ground had be a hundred yalms below.  Her forward motion was already propelling her through.  The elezen’s back spun toward the ground as she felt the weightlessness take over.  She had no choice.

Her eyes flashed green as she turned her body once more.  She could hear the bursting of the door to the apartment and the stampede of feet entering the small abode as she thrust one arm forward, her fingers gripping into the light brown brick that made the exterior of the building.  Her hand had no trouble digging into the stone, halting her descent.  A fierce wind in the sky ran through her face flung her hair to and fro.  The anxiety and danger of the height made her hands and feet tingle.  As she swung from the force of her weight, she quickly gripped her other hand into the building, and shuffled to the side.  They would no doubt notice the broken window and investigate and she did not wish to be in view.

She sighed.

_ “Again, you can thank me at anytime.” _

“Silence, you.  We’ve to climb down before the dawn discovers us.”

_ “I’ve got time to kill.  Such a delicious prize today to allocate to my strength.  You’ve done well.” _

“I’ve done nothing of the sort.  I only wish if I were to let go, gravity would suit a fine killer.  I deserve it.”

The succubus laughed.   _ “If it were so easy, you think I’d let any of this happen?  Hop to it, girl.” _

The elezen sighed, looking below, taking it one foot and hand at a time.  Below, the Lavender Beds began to wake, as free companies began their daily routines in their large homes.  She went unnoticed in her descent and shuffled away into the marsh, staying in the shadows.


	6. Her motivations, the purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She is allowed an evening of reflection. Entwined souls cross, unknown to Lyniastas.

The elezen had much to adapt to.

She utilized a majority of the day in solace, reflecting on her newfound emotions.  After escaping the building’s stone facade at dawn, she crept to the deep reaches of the Lavender Beds, just outside the residential district amongst thick brush, fallen trees, and the musings of nature in her ear.

She would laugh uncontrollably, dreaming of times past.  Embellishing in the overwhelming giddiness of her past, the finer points.  She continually drew memories of her past with Lyniastas in particular, a memory which evoked warm sensations through her in her mortal longing.

She would also rage, sending her fist through the trunks of mighty elms, clearing the splintering wood causing the tree to fall.  In the present, she understood she was unhappy in her situation, and drew anger toward her ignorant actions which led her to being possessed by the succubus.  The immense strength brought on by her inner demon was equal parts feared by her, yet insatiable all the same - the more the rush would sweep over her, the more woodland carnage would ensue.

Between these phases of laughter and fumes, she would again return to her sadness, falling to her knees, looking up at the clear sky, allowing helplessness to take over, understanding she was admitted to one fate, to continue to take lives.  In time, dusk took over the twelveswood.

_ “You are just odds and ends still,”  _ eventually the voice within perked up to bring her to course.   _ “You need to know, I will not release you until you are done with your task in resurrecting my power.  Be as pathetic as you like, I take no pity in who you were, or what you’ve become.” _

“I am but a demon myself, with you being in the shell of my corpse that yet moves to your will.”

_ “Isn’t it wonderful, feeling like me?  He he… you are very welcome for this impartial gift.” _

“I cannot wait to find justice swift in ending this cause.”

_ “Just remember, to allow you this time is only to ensure you can keep these accursed feelings under control when I need you most.  Make haste so that we might move on to the next sacrifice, I will not be satiated long.” _

The elezen stood, noting the cool, crisp scent of night descending upon her.  The chirps and buzzes of day had become the light breezes and coos of the night, transitioning into darkness.  Yet, she noticed her sight was impacted little.  Was this another gift imparted to her in the demonic dealings she was taking part in?  She looked up, scaling a nearby aged tree, standing tall amongst the others, ascending into the canopy.  She looked upon a nearby ward in the residential area, a warm glow of embers and lighting inviting safety and peace among the horrors that might lie in the wood itself.

“One more,” the elezen said, “I’ve one thing left to see.”

_ “Then know, we will be off.”  _ the succubus grumped.   _ “I’m not privy to such accommodation.” _

The elezen nodded, before taking branch to branch, making easy pace to the small village, entering it by rooftop, climbing about the slanted pitches with silent footing.  Below, the life of the area was drawing lighter, as the civilians rescinded into their abodes for the day's’ reflection.  She pressed on still, through a light breeze in the night, until one home came to view.

  
It was not an impressive place, but it looked homely all the same.  Wrought wood proved its age, yet still standing high on two stories.  Warped glass windows showed a slight glow within, implying someone was home.  The elezen looked upon the home with a heavy sigh.  “What is need is just inside,” she whispered.

_ “As if I am not inside your thoughts already?  Do this, for your sake, not mine.” _

With a few graceful leaps upon more rooftops (and one tree between a particularly long gap), she arrived at the roof.  Slowly, she crept down the steep siding, leaning over at the edge to a window, just within reach.  She gripped the hard, flat wooden shingles with one hand, so tightly an impression pushed with her bare fingers.  The other hand draped down, pulling with the window’s hinge.  She grunted lightly with a tug, freeing the window from being closed as it lightly swung open from hinges on one side like a door, letting out a light creaky moan as it settled fully open.  With one motion, the elezen swooped down, her draping overcoat like a wing in the night,  swinging feet-first into the room within.

Her vision remained unobscured by the darkness inside.  The room itself was as plain as any - a bed, a full bookshelf, a desk, a closet… the basic amenities anyone would want in a room.  The closet had no door, and it was nearest the window.  She silently strided to the opening, obscured in the darkness. Inside, there were a few outfits - most befitting of a disciple of magic, among other smallclothes.  Robes, ornate headdresses, mostly intricate designs in cloth could be seen hanging.  She slid them to one side, showing one outfit that seemed slightly different.  It appeared to be never worn - pressed neatly, the dark shade of the outfit unwashed, the dye still heavy on the thick wool.  She tugged on a single sleeve, pulling it out slightly, and a patch logo could be seen near the shoulder.  It was an intricate design, with three visible letters below.

DOS.

_ “This seems of import, what does this represent?” _

“A broken promise,” the elezen whispered.

She released the sleeve, turning, taking towards the bookshelf.  She took one moment of silence on the way, hearing a creak beneath her feet as she pressed her toe down.  On the floor below, there was a rustle, but she remained uninterrupted in her approach after ensuring she did not distract who was in the home.  Upon reaching the bookshelf, she thumbed through spines on the top shelf (easily reachable with her height), before tugging and freeing one book from the collection.

_ “Introduction to Aether” _ the cover read.

_ “Did you take me here for an elementary education?  Whatever your kind may have discovered about the aether is of little concern to the demons who live within its folds.  Your perception of its existence is clouded by your limited vision and exposure on the subject.  What prattle.” _

The elezen sighed, opening the book, thumbing through the pages until the book settled open in one place due to something wedged in its spine.  It was a letter and a photo.  She tugged them free from the binding, setting the book on the desk.  First, she looked upon the photo.

There she was, bearing an incredible smile, with one arm raised, a ring on her finger.  There was a solemn, true happiness about her expression - a calm, peaceful gaze, an honest, fulfilling rise in her lips.  She seemed at ease, warm.  Arms came around her, embracing her.  Behind her face, another could be seen, an elezen man with messy blonde hair.  He wore a similar expression, albeit his present a bit more with eyes shut and smile wider.  The sincerity of happiness in the moment seemed no different to him.

She slid the photo between to fingers and unfolded the letter.  She laid her eyes upon the ink.

_ “My dearest, _

_ Had I ever known the commitment that was to be made to serve the Holy See, know I would have never agreed upon this path in life.  What I know is that I belong with you, free of this burden, so that we might live in peace.  I will not marry into an extension of any High House, no matter the requirement.  Yet, to abandon my post is suicide, so I must tread carefully.  I have made a plan. _

_ I have applied to transfer to a new division called the Dravanian Occult Society.  They appear extremely disheveled, their leader recently became possessed himself and drove the unit into a strange sort of disorganization. The Holy See will no doubt scorn my motion, but cannot deny it given my status.  Also place your application for their ranks, you will no doubt be accepted even as a civilian with your education, and create a trace of our existence in Ishgard.  By the time they realize we never showed, we will be long gone in Gridania, enjoying a humble life with one another. _

_ The fields of Carteneau are bound for bloodshed.  Eorzea will be drawn to chaos itself as a result.  We will be needed where we are headed in the twelveswood, in time we shall surely be cornerstones in our community, appreciating a new life together. _

_ Meet me at the gate on its closing day.  We shall watch our fates be sealed on the other side, where we will then immediately cross to the church of the twelve, and find ourselves in eternal bond.  Let us make haste to create the life we deserve. _

_ With love, _

_ Lyn” _

**_Tap ta-tap._ **

The elezen snapped to attention at a distinct knock below.  Her ears twitched as she stood in stunned silence, listening to every nuance below.  She heard the creak of a chair, the shuffled footing of someone moving below.  She dared not breathe.  There was a creak of a door, and an introduction of sorts.  Despite the open window, the conversation still appeared muddled to her.  Yet, very quickly, she could tell it was escalating.  The voice below was recognizable, she knew it to be her mother, but the other…

...if she had a guess, could it be…?

_ “Don’t tell me your little life companion is down there, in an argument with your mother!”  _ the succubus rang in her head.   _ “What type of incredible coincidence have we found, here?”  _ She fell into a cackle.

The elezen’s mother’s voice became much louder.  It was clear she was upset, and still she listened on until the same door returned with a resounding  _ slam _ !  The elezen blinked upon hearing the force of the door coming to meet its frame and hinge with such force.  She stood in silence another moment in acute observation.

_ Creak, creak, creak… _

The elezen heard light feet pressing against wood.  Based on the origin, the elezen knew immediately - her mother was coming up the stairs.  In a few short steps, they would be a door away.  The open window was pouring in a cool night air - her mother would undoubtedly take notice, and enter the room.  She peered about, deciding to leave the book as it were, taking stride to match the creak of the stair toward the window, as to not alert her.  She took a graceful leap, head and hands first, through the pane, gripping the windowsill from the outside, peering to the surroundings of the residential district.  She was in a larger area between homes, almost like a street or alley, yet still no one was crossing between.

No witnesses.  She sighed in relief, before hearing the creak of the door inside open.

“Now, why is this open…?” she heard her mother’s voice.  Quickly, she released her grip on the sill and fell toward the ground, gracefully, falling to her feet and one knee, pressing the ground with both hands at the same time with a light  _ thud.  _ She peered toward the front of the house, and there he was, walking away from her.

“He’s… he really is alive.” she said, slightly stunned, a wave of emotion flowing through her.

_ “You thought him dead?  My, that’s unfortunate.  Looks like he’s wearing the uniform you had in your room, too.  DOS, was it?” _

She was right, for once.  He was quite a few yalms away, but the color and embroidered patch on the sleeve was fairly easy to tell it was similar.

“H...he went through with it…?” the elezen’s tears pooled slightly.  She began a quick stride in his direction.  “So… he never left Ishgard…”

He was clearly flustered, his stride slow and heavy, hers swift.  It took her little effort to get close enough to make sense of his features.  Without a doubt, it was him, the very same.

She was but a yalm away after a short pursuit, him oblivious to her presence.  She began to extend a hand to press against his back at attention, when she stepped on a leaf that left a notable  _ crunch  _ under her heel.  Lyniastas sprung to attention, looking up.  She froze, panicked, looking up to a tree above.  As he turned, she leapt upward with incredible strength, swinging from the branch five yalms in the air to a graceful landing on the roof.  A swift breeze blew among the twelveswood canopy, masking her noise.  Lyniastas shrugged and turned back toward his original direction.

_ “Cold feet?  After so long?” _

“Hush… it… I...” the elezen said solemnly.  She heard a scuffle below, bringing her out of difficult personal reflection.  She noticed Lyniastas was no longer on the main expanse of the Lavender Beds.  She peered off of a different side of the home, noting he was now in an alley with a large Roegadyn, also bearing the same uniform.

She watched the altercation brew between Lyniastas and the large Roegadyn man.  Lyniastas appeared rather detached, while the larger man impressed his evidence upon him.  He drew a piece of paper and presented it to Lyniastas, who bore little response.

_ “It seems.. He has been defending you.  They know what is occurring, but it was only him who knew who.” _

The Rogadyn threw a book down, opening it to a particular page showing a drawing of the elezen.

_ “That accursed Lalafell.  That picture is condemning to knowing what we are up to.  It proves we were there.” _

“She drew me…”

_ “This is of concern.  They are closing in on your appearance faster than I imagined.  It doesn’t help that this pathetic man has had his eyes on you for years.  No doubt that played a role in our discovery.” _

The large man led Lyniastas from the alleyway after a bit more talk.  The elezen remained on the roof, watching them stride away.  She thought to move, to still bring herself known to Lyniastas.

_ “Not a chance, girl.  Think about it.  You had an outfit in your room with the DOS logo, right?” _

The elezen nodded.

_ “The letter he wrote you.  Does it not state “Dravanian Occult Society?”  Would an acronym for that be DOS?” _

“It is the very same.”

_ “So what you are telling me is these two are from a team of officials that investigate crimes of a demonic nature.” _

“That is… what the DOS does, yes.”

_ “So, what we have found is your former lover is a lead in the investigation of you.  What you understand now, is that he must be stopped.” _

“I wish to be stopped, I would allow him such passage..”

The succubus scoffed.   _ “Know your place, girl.  It’s obvious you’ve no value in your life in serving me, yet.. It is impressive to know that there are those who value  _ **_your_ ** _ life enough to make our passage easy.  Since the other man appears involved now, it won’t be long before your face is recognizable to many around.  We will have to teach you a few tricks to muffle your influence on the environment.” _

“My.. what?”

_ “You are utilizing the strength I provide well.  But understand, this is but one of many things I might do to aid your quest in fulfilling me.  Let us impart - what you might learn drawing deeper into the dark aether I provide will prove useful in the future.” _

“You are teaching me…?”

_ “Aye, I think you’ve been walking plenty with my influence.  It is time you learned how to run.  Let us be off.  The next time we see anyone from the DOS, it won’t be a favorable visit for them.” _

“But…” the elezen gritted her teeth in personal conflict.

_ “Lyniastas is but an enemy to you now!  Listen to me, dear girl.  Should he cross your path, remember he is but a gnat to your flame.  An antling beneath your foot.  You will need to crush him, and I intend to give you the means to do so.” _

“I…” the elezen could not fight her strong will.

_ “Choose your own well-being for once, child.  Lyniastas knows that the closer he comes to you, the more inevitable a confrontation must ensue where he will have to take you down as well.  Your only choice is to become stronger than his means, and overcome whatever weakness remains.  I would wager so far as to believe this is what he wants of you.  Suffering and romance are such incredible machinations within your race - I love how they twist the wheels of good and evil.”  _ the succubus let out a light chuckle.   _ “To want you to live, yet the need to stop you all the same, that man truly knows the meaning of strife this day.” _

“You are observant.”

_ “And so you shall be, also.  Let us be off to our meeting place, there is much for you to learn.” _

“Back… to the library?”

_ “Don’t worry.  I know where all of the other cursed books are, I won’t let any other demon have you, my dear.”  _ the succubus laughed in a loud echo in the elezen’s head, making her wince.   _ “I won’t say I’m fond of you, but I would go as far as to say right now we are… quite attached to one another, no?”  _ she laughed again.   _ “Indeed, I mustn’t go on.  I will burst if I hear another one of my own jests!” _

“I’m glad you’re making this enjoyable for yourself.”

_ “As if to say you won’t.  You are clearly a disciple of magic even before you came to know me.  You spent your life studying the aether.  Why else would Lyniastas believe you good enough to join the DOS without any recommendation from your… ruler?  Holy See?  What a Holy See?” _

“Do not speak ill of Ishgard’s ruler.”

_ “An invention of man, nonetheless.  Keep in mind - they even let you in!  Not that you ever showed to serve... regardless, is there no desire in a deeper understanding for such knowledge?” _

“I know sadness, happiness, and anger,” the elezen replied.

_ “Ah, that’s right.  Don’t worry - when we take that life, you’ll thank me later!”  _ the succubus was into a full-on familiar cackle.   _ “Time is short - we must be one step ahead of that pesky DOS.  Though, should we cross, I will truly savor every moment of their suffering.” _

_   
_ The elezen peered about, receding into the shadow of night behind the rooftop.  Below, the Lavender Beds continued a familiar solace of quiet night.

_Act 1 - Finis._


	7. Act 1 Epilogue - Her Hame, Her Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The DOS makes their first major move.

“He’s here,” Brygym’s voice boomed through a well-lit conference room in the Dravanian Occult Society headquarters in Ishgard.  Ornate stonework and portraits lined the walls.  The room itself was extravagant in presentation, but simple in function - save the bright ambiance and colorful decor of plants, deep red rugs, and tall, arching pillars, there was but one table in the middle of the room, surrounded by chairs.  The table was long like the rectangular room, four seats to each side, with one on each end.  The doorway lie on the far end of one table, where Brygym now stood, his hand on the door’s knob, walking in.  On the other end of the room, a Lalafell sat, greeting him with a silent nod.  She leaned back, crossing her arms, looking to a folder before her, closed.

“Aye, let him in,” she spoke solemnly.  Her eyes were a bright amber, her hair a thick, long pink.  She had bangs, long enough to be pressed to the side behind her right ear.  She was donned in the same garb as the rest of them, clearly another member of the DOS.  Most notable were her earrings and headband - she had it a point of their gold, intricate design.  The headband itself protruded slightly, almost like a crown.

Brygym nodded, stepping into the room then to the left side.  Behind him, Lyniastas entered glumly, eyeing the woman at the end of the room, meeting her with a short nod, moving to the right.  Behind Lyniastas, Tien strutted in, full of his usual confidence, a wry smile upon his face.

“I have been to Fi’Teri’s chamber!” Tien boasted, as if it were an accomplishment.  “She said she would be by in a moment.”

“Lyniastas,” The lalafell commanded the room, paying no mind to Tien’s ego.  They locked eyes.  “Come before me.”

Lyniastas trudged through the room, slowly stepping toward the other end of the table.  The lalafell pushed herself a slight distance from the table, hopping down to her feet to meet him.  They crossed near the corner of the room, his feet moving much quicker.  He looked down at her.

“Lalieri, I-”

“Silence.” she gritted her teeth and took a heel from her shoe to his toe with a single downward thrust of her leg.  Lyniastas winced, falling to one knee, meeting her face-to-face.  He groaned grabbing his shoe at the tip.  “Is it true?  Brygym found you hiding evidence?”

“It’s…” Lyniastas rolled his eyes, looking away from her.  She place her second finger under his chin, pulling his gaze back into hers.

“So it really is the truth.” she grumbled at him.

“A-aye… all of it.”

“Give me one good reason why I should even keep you-”

“S-sorry I’m late!” a loud voice echoed through the door as Fi’Teri barged in.

Tien smiled.  “My dearest lady, we are but getting started!” he said, being sure to flex slightly as he extended a hand to her.  She looked at him, then peered about the room, stepping side to side.  Tien sighed, leaning his arm back to his side.

  
“But wait, where’s Ly-” as she leaned to the right, she saw him meeting Lalieri in close quarters.  Her instinct took over, and she rushed to his side.  “Lyn!  Wh..what happened, Lali!?  Did you hurt him!?”

Lalieri rolled her eyes.  “Curse the twelve… Fi’Teri, for the last time, what would you expect a woman like me to do to a lumbering giant like him?”

Tien leaned toward Brygym, a small smile on his face.  “Gosh, I’d hate to hear what she calls you.”  Brygym chuckled, breaking his silent observation.

Fi’Teri fell to her knees and pressed her body against him, a hand on his back, the other on his hand.  She felt his warmth before speaking, “Gods, you always have me so worried, though…”

“It matters not.  I have what I need to know to mark our next move.” Lalieri turned and worked back up to her seat at the tables’ edge.  She leaned in, taking grip of the folder, opening it.   


“It has been discovered that for the first time across now multiple investigations, we have a suspect.  Based on how the newest murders have played out, it is fairly clear we now have a new demon on our hands to investigate on top of our prior investigation as well. Luckily for us, however, we are able to be identify our second perpetrator much sooner due to the… sensitive nature they share to Lyniastas.”  She looked below to written accounts of the evidence thus far, including the written notes from the elezen and the photo drawn by the last victim of her.

Fi’Teri’s ears twisted at this information.  “Wait, what?”  She leaned forward, looking to his face.  He did not meet her gaze, but instead looked ahead himself, at the wall, bracing for the inevitable statement.  “Who is it?”

“Let the officials know we are in pursuit of Meshia Lorenys on suspicion of multiple murders."  Lalieri nodded to Brygym.  He understood.

Lyniastas winced at hearing the name.  It couldn’t be true.  He attempted to stand.  Lalieri lifted a hand.

“Ah, Lyn.  You are not to move.  You shall stay with me, and tell me all of what we might discover of this woman.  We only know her as the lover lost, not as the person who might yet live.  We will need all we have to tell the story as best we can.  The rest of you are dismissed.”

“But-” Fi’Teri attempted to protest as she helped Lyniastas to his feet.  Her eyes darted back and forth just hearing the name.  It bore seeming significance to her, her mouth slightly ajar as her mind raced.  Her bottom lip quivered.  “Lyn, why…”

“Fi’Teri, go do what you wish for once!  Lyniastas is mine this night.”  Lalieri commanded.  Fi’Teri looked down, dismissive, slowly releasing her grip of him, stepping away.  She could feel Lalieri’s golden eyes staring through her.

“U-understood, Lalieri.” she sulked from the chamber, with Tien and Brygym close behind.  Outside, the men went their separate ways, yet Fi’Teri placed one hand on the wall, leaning against it at her side.  Her eyes still wide, her mouth slightly open, per pace stopped as she exhaled sharply.  “Meshia… she yet lives...?”  Fi'Teri swallowed hard.

Back in the chamber alone, Lalieri looked to Lyniastas, who met her gaze with a cold stare of his own, his lip quivering in equal parts sadness and rage.

Lalieri shook her head slowly.  “Oh, calm down, Lyn.  Fate has dealt us this hand, not I.  Let us do what we might to make short work of all this.  I understand this is close to your heart.  But, as are you to all of us, especially Fi’Teri.  We need to make short work of Meshia before she kills again, and before her aged grips on your heart get the better of you.  Let’s begin.”

Lyniastas pulled out a chair with an echoing  _ creak _ , nodded, and sat as it groaned taking on his weight.

\---

Tien sat at the desk in his humble, minimalist chamber.  Various weights lined a small shelf, a soft mat lie on the floor - otherwise the room itself was pristine.  A bed of flat, folded linen.  A closet, shut, a bookshelf next to it, all tomes arranged in size order.  A single small, rectangular rug at the room’s entrance.  Tien’s fairly simple life was easy to see - he kept what little he had tidy, even his own body, based on the only other objects out save the basic amenities.  Even now, as he looked before the case file on his desktop by candlelight, he lifted a single arm, a weight grasped between his fingers.  Before him, a photo of Meshia Lorenys that Lyniastas provided lie for his prodding eyes to memorize.

“Aye, Lyniastas, can’t argue your taste…” he smirked, lifting the large weight with little effort, exhaling with slight force during each lift.  “That is, until you are blind to the perfection of Fi’Teri…”

Tien had a short scoff of laughter, continuing to read what has been discovered thus far.

\---

Brygym was similarly humble and tidy, yet instead of body-building gear, Brygym’s walls were floor to ceiling with bookshelves, and enough books to last anyone a lifetime.  He was a seeker of knowledge first always, and his room perpetuated that notion.  Even dismissed from work now, he lie buried in a tome on a comfortable chair, studying dark aether, to better prepare his inevitable journey to the Great Gubal Library.  His preferred place of respite, three lights behind him illuminated the text in front, better assisting him to see even with his thick glasses on.  On the stand next to the chair, the same photo of Meshia sat.  Between prose, Brygym glanced at the photo, and sighed.

“Oh, Lyniastas, do I feel for you,” he mumbled.  “She was to be one of us, as I recall.  Now…” he sighed.  “Surely, we are doomed to encounter more strife in the future… I pray that we all might know peace when this is over.”

Brygym returned to his tome, slowly letting the heaviness of his eyelids drift him to slumber.  Before long, he was snoring loudly, his mouth agape.

\---

Fi’Teri took a deep breath, allowing the cool Ishgardian night to fill her lungs.  The bitter cold was one she was well-accustomed to, having spent so many years in this part of Eorzea.  She stood before a tree in the Western Highlands, the snowy earth below crunching lightly beneath her feet even as she stood, settling into it.  She lifted a hand, placing the photo of Meshia on the tree, wedging it in the stiff bark.  The night air was surprisingly still, no fear of wind to carry the photo from it’s place.  Around her, a sea of stars could be viewed above and, after a glance at them, she turned from the tree, taking slow, audible steps in the pure snow, until she was twenty yalms from the photo. She hung her head, closing her eyes, reflecting.

“Meshia.” she whispered, as a wisp of breath drifted from between her shaking lips, rising into the atmosphere.  She took note again to the chill of night upon her cheek, the deafening silence of solitude surrounding her.  “So it comes to this, does it…?”

She snapped at attention, quickly jerking one hand to her hip, where a firearm pressed against her in a makeshift belt hilt.  In one fast motion, she pulled it from her side, pointing it behind her as she turned her face for a glance, cocked, and fired the weapon as it continued to rise.  The firing itself caused a bit of backlash, absorbed with a bend at her elbow, bringing the gun behind her head, facing down, in her grasp.  The sharp  _ boom _ echoed between the generous mountains of coerthas, yet the wilds remained still at her act.  She breathed a few heavy breaths as the shaft let out a light smoke that dissipated into the atmosphere like her breath.  She slowly slid the weapon back into its holster, pulling her uniformed jacket over it, before beginning a short walk back to the tree.  Where the photo once lie pressed between bark was now a mess of splinters, no photo to be seen.

“Lyniastas has been taken from me once by you already,” she hissed, slowly leaning in, practically pressing her lips against the splintering wood as she continued.  “And now, we stand again, his precious heart years removed by your presence, yet it is as if time has stood still for him…” she leaned her head in the opposite direction, pulling away from the tree slightly.  A curved smile formed upon her lips.

“It has been me, you cur, who has watched over him all these years.  Cared for his sadness.  Kept him on high.  Maintained his stability.  Ensured his needs do not go unmet.  He... he was merely smitten by you.  But it is I... “ her teeth gritted as her low whisper became a sob. “It is I who deserves him more than you…” she shut her eyes as tears collected and streamed down her face, cool from the air.  “For, lest you forget… he saved me.  He…” she could not contain her emotions any longer, breaking into sobs.  “He is the only reason I live…”

Fi’Teri turned her back to the tree, leaning against it, slumping to a sit, alone with her despair, her head buried in her hands.

“Know that I will not allow you to hurt him again.  The next bullet I fire will be my conviction for his well-being.”  She looked upon a tattered piece of the photo, which bore a portion of Meshia’s smiling face.  “I lived for him, a freed slave, doomed to wither in servitude, while you lived to run away from him.  Let us see… who will win in the end, Meshia… I believed time was on my side, that you were gone, but now...”

The night continued its stillness, offering no comfort to the woman sitting alone.

“Now I must do what must be done.”


	8. Her Past, Her Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fi'Teri has come of age to provide alongside her mother. Yet, struggling to adapt to a life of serving is not the only thing on her mind...

It was the boot to stone outside her window that roused her from peaceful slumber.  The morning band, scouting the populace to ensure the safety of Ishgard’s citizens, a steady, rhythmic  _ shtump, shtump _ of heels hitting the cobblestone outside in succession.  The holy see’s finest were afoot, making their foreboding presence known, ensuring no ill tidings were being devised in any corner of the sprawling city.  A single voice could be heard barking militant orders - guiding the path of what sounded like a small army.  Just as the clamour rose enough to wake her, then it began to fade as they moved to their next locale.

A sole shred of light warmly illuminated Fi’Teri’s young face from a small, high, round window with four panes, ripples of dust slowly wafting in the beam.  She squinted, slowly opening one eye.  She lie in a bed of hay, a scant cloth over her that draped to the side, exposing her bare leg underneath.  The sienna hue of her skin lie in contrast to the yellow-brown of the aged hay beneath.  Slowly, the clear blue of her eye could be seen, as she blinked slowly to regain consciousness.  She sighed with a light groan, extending her arms for a large stretch, shutting her eyes again and ended in yawn.  She opened them once more to see the bright blue sky beyond the small panes lighting her face with a hint of welcoming warmth.

The room was minimal - save her makeshift arrangement for sleep, the only thing of note was folded linens on a stool nearby - the room itself was not large, almost an awkward rectangular stone closet with a single large dark wood door with an iron bar window.  It bore a striking resemblance to a prison cell, yet she did not seem alarmed waking there.  She stood, shaking off bits of hay that stuck to her back and leg; her slender black tail curling and stretching to and fro set free from lying still, and picked up some linen from the stool, an outfit.  She dressed in the plain garb, an off-white dress with a single strap at the waist to tie.  She also picked up a simple headdress, a flat square she was able to tie around her long, unkempt black hair which draped to her shoulders, and her perky, pointy ears.

“Right on schedule,” she chuckled.  The soldiers never failed to keep Fi’Teri on time.  She opened the door, which resisted slightly to her pull, moaning lightly at the hinge.  She walked into an incredible hallway, a drastic adjustment from where she slept.  Vibrant purple rugs, ornate woodwork, and extravagant paintings lined the walls of the long room, with one common theme - a rose.  Every painting contained roses.  The woodwork itself had a flowery design.  Below, the purple of the rug had a gold trim implicit of petals.

“House Haillenarte!” Fi’Teri skipped through the hall.  “Pretty flowers everywhere!  If only its people were the same… but!  Mother knows it is our duty to serve those who do right!  There is good in what our life brings, even now.”

Fi’Teri made her way through the sizable abode.  As hallways turned to immense rooms with more ornate details maintaining the rose theme, and eventually a grand entrance with a double staircase lining both sides in a rounded symmetry.  She took to one side, continuing her jolly stride to the chambers above. As she rounded the last stair, she stopped, bowing her head, attempting to become humble.   
  
“Mother says not to get worked up.  We do our job best serving in silence, in shadow, to be invisible, yet provide, that is when we are at our best…” she whispered before reducing her stride to a slow walk.  “For those we serve to be satiated, yet unknown to our presence…”

Her excitement burrowed in her heart, her stride became slow, and patient.  She peered about, taking in the extravagance of the view - the intricate woodwork on the home’s wooden supports continued throughout, and the rose theme continued on artwork, strewn about the walls.  At the end of the hallway, a large bay window flooded the morning’s light onto the deep purple rug.

She came across a door, second on the left, in a row of five.  She sighed one last time, before placing her hand on the doorknob and slowly  _ creaking _ the door open.  Inside, the curtains were drawn on the room, so it still appears as the dark as night, save the dim glow extending from the top and sides of the drapes at a nearby window.  Quietly, she tip-toed to the curtain on the far side of the room, and slowly drew it open, allowing light to flood the chamber.  She tied the curtain to thick, golden threads at the sides of the window, peering at the city’s inhabitants slowly coming around to their day below.  The view itself was incredible - the home was clearly seated on a higher plane of the grand city of Ishgard - its view extended the whole lower quarter, as well as the fantastic mountainscape of Eorzea beyond.  There was hardly a cloud in the sky.  Fi’Teri smiled, as her left ear twitched with wonder.

“Rise and shine, miss!  Today, I-” Fi’Teri turned with optimism in her tone, but was greeted by a gaze so fierce it interrupted her.  On the massive bed against one wall, a young elezen woman was sitting up, her arms folded, staring straight at Fi’Teri with practically a snarl.  Save her expression, it was clear she was well-kept - she had long, blond hair (though rather slightly amiss from slumber) that shimmered in the morning glow.  Her deep green eyes shared a similar intensity to Fi’Teri’s blues.  She had a single beauty mark, just below the lip.  Her white, longsleeve gown draped beneath bright red bedding.

“Do you know why I am awake, slave?” the elezen grunted.

Fi’Teri shrugged.  “I-If it would please my mistress, I… I could guess…?”

The elezen scoffed and shook her head.  “Do you think prattling about this house is done in silence?  I could hear you skipping up the stairs, even talking to yourself!  You really are pathetic.”

Fi’Teri swallowed hard.  “I apologize, mistress, I… I am simply reminding myself-”

“Silence!  I knew the very second I could hear your stride that you had forgotten to bring my morning meal again.  Are you not aware of your standards here?  You are simply the worst.”

A pit formed in Fi’Teri’s stomach.  “Mistress, I will go with haste!  I...I did not intend to make my mistress angry…”

“Well, see to it.  I can always berate you as I eat.” she grinned, bearing perfectly white teeth.  “I’ve no time to waste becoming beautiful.  I’ve more suitors today looking to take my hand and be given the honor to marry me.  They are just lining up, you know!” the elezen giggled in self-admiration, peering at a nearby tall, ornate golden mirror tall enough for its own stand.  “At this rate, I won’t even be ready for the  _ real _ one I care about coming tomorrow.” she closed her eyes in wonder.  “Oh, Lyniastas, you will be my husband, I swear it!”

Fi’Teri’s blood began to boil at the woman’s tone.  “I will take my leave, then, mistress, and prepare that meal…” she bowed respectfully, fighting every instinct not to, and took for the chamber door.

The elezen continued, “You know, I shouldn’t expect much from a young slave like you.  You’ve been doing this for what, perhaps about a week?  It’s no wonder you’re such a failure.  A pity you are so terrible, it really makes your mother look bad.”

Fi’Teri’s pace halted to a stop just before leaving the room.  She blinked twice before slowly looking down, realizing her hands were clenched into fists.  She exhaled, feeling her breath waiver in testing her self-control.  “You…” she slipped into a whisper under her breath.

“Fi’Teri!  Where are you, child?  I’ve taken to providing breakfast for Alyssita!” a voice Fi’Teri recognized broke the test her patience was undergoing from outside in the hall.  She inhaled through her mouth, held it a moment, and turned back to face the young woman, who still wore no expression but disgust.

“It would appear my mother has provided your meal.  I will fetch it.”

“It would appear you have your mother doing your job for you.  Pathetic.”

Fi’Teri’s bottom lip quivered slightly before excusing herself from the room with one more bow, stepping out.  After stepping out of view, she placed a hand against the wall, looking down, the other on her hip, sighing.

“Dear daughter…” she heard a calming voice at her side, as a gentle hand was placed on her shoulder.  Fi’Teri let a single tear go pulling a hand to her face to wipe it away.  She turned to see her mother, almost a mirror image of herself, save the weathering that naturally comes with a bit of age.  A slight wrinkle around the eye, a shade of powerful blue faded from her eye, she was also slightly shorter than her daughter.  Regardless, Fi’Teri’s mother aged gracefully, wearing a cool, solemn happiness on her face to meet her daughter’s angst.

“Mother, I-”

Her mother placed a finger on her lips, shaking her head softly.  “No, my previous Fi.  Do not speak.  You only know words of a fleeting frustration.  I hear all that goes on in this home.  I know.”

“I am… just trying to be good for you…”

“You will always be perfect in my eyes.  But understand, it is not my eyes you need to impress now.  You’re old enough to serve the House.  You must do so.  Remember to be the serving shadow.  To provide endlessly, and do so unseen… I…” her mother yawned.  It was at this moment Fi’Teri noticed great bags under her eyes.

“Mother, are you well..?  Let me do something-”

“No, Fi.  I am fine.” she shook her head.  “Just… sometimes, in service, we give much more than our time, and it can be… a challenge.”

“What does  _ he _ have you doing?”  Fi’Teri’s glare of concern looked straight to her mother.

She shook her head once more.  “Breakfast, my dear.  She has waited long enough.” her mother pointed a cart beside her, a covered plate upon it.

Fi’Teri sighed.  “Alyssita can-”

“-can enjoy a great meal that you deliver.  Now go.”

Fi’Teri hung her head, stepping to the cart and wheeling it towards the door.   _ “Another day in service to House Haillenarte.  Slowly, my spirit crumbles further.  Whoever this Lyniastas is, truly has the devil after him,” _ she thought.

\---

That night, Fi’Teri lie in her bed of hay, watching the stars above through the meager window in her frigid chamber.  The smile never returned to her face through the day, as she continued to be torn apart at every task and every attempt to serve her master Alyssita.  Her body felt as broken as her spirit.

“It’s going to be another cold night… I’d best attempt to find myself another layer of-”

She sat up suddenly, her ears perked, her tail beginning to whip about.

“Clothing.  The clothes!  I forgot to bring them in!  Argh!” she cursed to herself, leaping to her feet, taking to the hallway.  Remembering her mistress’ jeers earlier, she walked, albeit quickly.  “I left them… hanging on the second story near the bedroom chambers outside, I’ll just grab them now…”

She made her way through the home in the cover of night.  The planet’s orbiting Eorzea outside painted a milky white glow through the windows.  Occasionally, a street lamp flickered outside, allowing a warmer, orange light to fill the room.  In short time, she was at the grand stair, creeping up them slowly.

“I left them, well…” she chuckled to herself.  “At least I put them up on the other side.  I can avoid my mistress’ chamber altogether.  Hopefully the master of the house is at rest.”

She took to the other side of the hallway off from the grand entry foyer, continuing her creeping walk not to arouse suspicion.

Yet, as she made down the hallway, she noted her stride drifting into obscurity of another noise.  One that, though young, she could imply very well.  The exasperated groans. The creaking of furniture.

“I..is that… the master...?  What is he…?”

She slunk to the wall, noting that the master of the home, Ser Jarvaillen, had the door to his chamber slightly open.  The warm glow of a fire danced about a sliver of light in the hallway.  The noise continued, as she could hear the grunting become louder and louder the closer she got.

“Per...perhaps I should not…” she stopped in her tracks in thought.  She then heard a voice.

“Master, p...please, be at ease, my body, it…” Fi’Teri knew for sure.  Her mother was in there!  That was her voice!  Instantly, her gaze became furious, her hands back to fists.  Behind her her tail stood at end.  She turned to the door, eager to open it.  She found the courage to peer inside, gasping quietly.

Her mother lie on hands and knees, naked, on the bed.  The fire in the hearth illuminated a pained, gritted expression complete with tears streaming down her face.  Her hands wound around the blankets below her.  Her breasts hung from the position, her dark nipples coming to a large point, implying stimulation.  She quietly sobbed, lowering her head into the blankets as a second figured appeared to Fi’Teri’s eye.  Behind her, the shadow of Ser Jarvaillen’s shape could be seen, seemingly obscured by his distance to the flame in relation to hers.  Fi’Teri’s eyes darted about, and just as she found the courage to charge in, the master spoke.

“Woman, you test my patience once more!” Fi’Teri froze as the voice sounded nothing like Ser Jarvaillen.  Rather, it did, but was considerably deeper, almost as if he were ill.  She could not pinpoint it, but something was amiss.  He continued, “If you are to serve me and my house, and protect your daughter further, you will climax for me this night!”

“I… I can’t!  I…” her mother stammered.  The shadow leaned forward, revealing Ser Jarvaillen’s face.  His messy blond hair strewn about, threaded unevenly behind his pointed ears, even slightly over his eyes and mouth, which was clenched, bearing teeth.  His hand came forward and pressed into the mattress just behind her mother's.  She could tell he was shirtless, and undoubtedly there was not much else he was wearing, given the circumstances.

Fi’Teri noted it barely resembled his face at all - she never knew him as an evil man, per se, nothing like his daughter.  He was quite stern, she knew, but never wicked, as he appeared now.  Most notably, there was an energy in his eyes, something sinister, something vile… they almost had a tinted hue of red about them.

He snarled, slightly spitting on her back, unable to control his saliva.  He lifted his body up, pushing his waist into her from behind.  She squealed, arching her back, wincing in pain, her breasts pushing forward, bounding to and fro.  Her head then fell into the sheets, masking what was more than likely a scream.  He continued.

“Serve your master, and give unto me your sexual release!  I will have what is mine!  You should be honored to be the object of affections for someone like me in the high houses of Ishgard!”

She slightly rose her head above the sheets.  “I… This puts me at no ease, master, I… I do this in love only…”

“Then know to love me!  Until the end!  Until I might dine on your soul from your glorious release!  Finish on my thick manhood!  Let me feel you quiver and shake upon my perfection!” he hissed, reeling back and pressing forward again, causing her mother to bury her head in the sheets once more, her knuckles white from gripping the red silken threading so hard.  “Only in your release might I know strength!”

Fi’Teri’s horror caused her to reel backward a step, which caught on the rug, causing her to lose balance.  She winced, bracing herself for what she knew would not be a graceful fall.  With a large  _ thud _ , she fell to the floor.  Instantly, she scrambled to out of the door’s view, as the pair within were startled by the noise.  She crawled away, tears streaming down her face, panting, quicking taking to her feet in a run.

“Begone from my sight!  You are devoid of any pleasure tonight as well, it seems.  Follow whoever that was!  Know that should they not be silenced, you will go down as responsible for whatever happens here!”  Fi’Teri could hear his commands loud and clear, yet she continued to run.  Down the steps she bounded, through the chambers back to her hallway, before shutting the door behind her, back to her room.

“Wh... what did I… who… why would mother… I…” she said between sobs, sitting against a cold, stone wall, hugging her knees.  After a few minutes, a quiet knock could be heard at the door.  She scampered to the corner of the room, her bright blue eyes fixated on who would enter in fear it might be him.

Her mother, hastily robed, slowly entered.  Her eyes still sullen, yet her tears dried.  Instantly, she knew Fi’Teri was their observer.  She hung her head as her lip quivered, nodding in solemn understanding.

“He is not here.  You can be at ease.”

Instantly, Fi’Teri stood, pounding a foot to the floor.  “What in Coerthas is going on here, mother!?  Have you always been… been-!”

“No, dear daughter.  Things were never like this.  He…”

“Then why!?  Why would you ever agree to-”

“Silence, girl, lest you wake the whole house and put our lives in jeopardy.”

Fi’Teri swallowed her thoughts, yet they still were a large stone in her throat.  Her mother continued.

“It is our fate to concede to the will of our masters.  In all things, dear daughter.  I was so relieved to know that Alyssita was to be your mistress, as…” she looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with her daughter in shame.  “I know she will never ask this of you…”

“Why would you let him!?  He… I don’t ever remember him like this, he was good to you!  You served him, but I thought there was a respect…”

“Aye, there was.  Until his last recess from home to the library in the forelands.  He returned from his post a changed man.  He began to take an interest in me.  In my pleasures, my… fantasies, he… asked me things I could not answer.  Until one evening recently, he simply decided he would…” she sobbed, a tear falling from her eye as she brought her hands to her face.  “Oh, Fi’Teri, my dear daughter, I never meant for you to know, I had hoped maybe once was enough, and he… he would stop, but…”

“Let us flee.  Let us be done with Ishgard.  I cannot allow this to continue.”

Her mother looked up again.  “His influence knows a limitless reach, Fi.  We… we cannot run, lest we die…”

“For you, I’d rather take that chance until he kills you himself upon that bed…” Fi’Teri recalled what she had just seen and shuddered.  “The man doing this to you is not Ser Javaillen, of that I am certain, we should inform the-”

“We will tell no one.”  Her mother found resolve, looking into her eyes.  “I have spent my life in service to this House, and I will not be fleeing.  Whatever ails him, it will pass.  Have faith, dear daughter.  You have been here yet a week.  You do not understand the weight we bear and why we cannot simply walk away.”

“I will not allow a man, no matter his condition or ailment, to rape-!”

“Silence!  I have heard enough.  You will rest.  You will wake.  You will continue to serve Alyssita.  That is your duty.  Leave me to my own.  I… I can handle him.” she snapped at Fi’Teri, who gasped, taking a step back.

“Mother, I…” Fi’Teri fought tears.

She sighed.  “I know.  You are only looking out for me.  Rest assured, daughter, I have made peace with my calling in life, as you will…” with that, her mother turned and left the chamber, slowly shutting the door behind her.  Fi’Teri leaned against the wall once more, slumping back to hugging her knees.

“Why… why would he do this to her…?  What’s wrong with him?”

\---

The sharp echo of bells resided through the home at noon the next day.  Fi’Teri was in the kitchen washing dishes at the time when her ears perked at the noise.  She left the plate where it lie in the water, wiping her hands with a towel nearby, taking to the front of the home.  As she worked through the final hallway, Alyssita turned the corner to face her, seemingly upset.  She appeared incredibly stunning, with a dark green form-fitting dress and her hair partially tied up, what was not was in large curls.

“D...Don’t let him see me like this!” she cried.  Behind her, Fi’Teri’s tired mother coddled her between her tears.  “I’m not ready!  I’m… augh!  I need to change!  Fetch me my sharpest dress!  One no man can resist!  He must be mine!  Lyniastas is the one!  He is!” she cried.

“Now, now, dear… that won’t do.  Let’s find a bit of confidence for you while Fi’Teri takes a moment to entertain.  Isn’t that right, Fi?” her mother looked upon her, large bags under her eyes still.  Fi’Teri wished to voice concern once more, but simply nodded, stepping by them to the foyer.  She grabbed both inner knobs to the dark wood double doors in the front of the foyer and pulled back.

A stormy, rainy wind enveloped the room as she laid her eyes upon him.  She lost herself in the sight before her - a tall, young elezen man, in tight, fitted garb clearly intended for the temple knights of Ishgard.  The cloth was dyed a dark hue, yet fitted and set around the long, draping coat and tight shirt and pant beneath were golden accents - small armor-like sleeves around the upper arm and knee, and smaller intricacies of the same color around the gloves and waist of the coat.  The Ishgard shield symbol appeared on the arm of his long jacket, as well as on the left upper part of his shirt beneath.  His blond hair was a bit long for standing up, even in the intense rain, yet it did so with little resistance.  The longer he remained in the rain, however, that might not be for long.  He looked down to her with a calm, gentle smile on his face.

“Good day.  Might I have found the house of Ser Javaillen?  I am here on courtship from the holy see to meet his daughter, Alyssita.” his words were as harmonious scripture to her soul, soothing her with every syllable.  She became so lost in his addictive appearance, then his soothing voice, she forgot to answer.  He stood a moment, awaiting response, before laughing nervously and scratching the back of his head.  “Er… perhaps I might have gone to quickly… who are you?”

Fi’Teri snapped at attention, realizing she had embarrassed herself.  Her face became flushed and she looked down, pulling her hands behind her back, nervously fidgeting.  “I… er, I am Fi… Teri… Fi’Teri, a-and… yes, this is the correct place… I am sorry sir, er…”

“Lyniastas.  Please, call me Lyn.  I am not one for formalities.” he smiled again, stepping into the home, looking up and around at the grand entrance.  Fi’Teri gently closed the doors behind him.  “My, isn’t this quite a place?  I’m not one for extravagant, but goodness, this is certainly impressive!”  He nodded and continued peering about.

“M...might I remove your coat, sir… Lyn?” Fi’Teri meekly spoke, her face still flushed.  He nodded, turning his head to the side to see her as he extended his arms slightly.  She approached him from behind, working her fingers under his coat from the neck to remove it.  His slight height advantage meant she had to reach a bit, as well as get in a bit close.  She felt his warmth radiating against her as she tugged, losing her breath with each passing second.  She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as the cloth slipped from his body into her arms, revealing his form a bit more.  Though still clothed, it was clear by his shape alone he was physically fit.  Again, she lost herself in admiration as he turned around, concerned.

“I.. I am sorry Fi’Teri, but are you well?  You look flushed and seem a bit… rather…” Lyniastas failed to find a word.  She peered over his face again before shaking her head.

“Tis nothing!  Perhaps a slight dizzy spell, I…” she recalled she had to stall him from entering, as Alyssita was not ready.  “Why don’t you… tell me about yourself?  They are just about done preparing.” she sputtered out.  She extended an arm to a two-seater purple couch beside the door, before the grand double stair.  He nodded and took a seat, crossing his legs and placing his hands over his knee.  Looking up at her, he chuckled.

“Well, won’t you join me?” he motioned to the other cushion.  Her eyes darted to and fro before slowly walking over and sitting next to him.  After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he spoke.  “I am training to be a temple knight.  Well, technically after the bouts last week, I am eligible now, but… formalities, they always get in the way!” he laughed.  “I bested my superior in combat.  It was unexpected, but, I’ve been working very hard my whole life to get where I am now.  It is a great honor to begin my life to serve.” Conviction rang in his tone.  Fi’Teri looked upon him with wonder in her gaze.

“S...So, what brought you here, to a family in House Haillenarte?”

Lyniastas nodded with a slight smirk.  “In the bouts, the woman Alyssita took note of me.  She requested audience with me here.  I have learned…” he sighed, with a slight  _ hmm _ before continuing, “...that part of the honor in being a top knight is to also take the hand of someone in a High House to be married in eternal bonding.  We are meeting under the arrangement of the Holy See and Ser Jarvaillen to see if it is a decent fit.”

Fi’Teri sighed, scrunching her nose as her ears flitted to and fro in thought.  “This stuff sounds complicated.  I thought eternal bonding was for love.”

Lyniastas broke into laughter, nodding in agreement.  “As did I, Fi’Teri!  Alas, all is not lost, no?  Even arranged or no, any encounter, no matter how big or small, could lead to love.  The arrangement would be beneficial either way, as Ser Jervaillen is the leader of the DOS.”

Fi’Teri snapped to attention.  She recalled seeing an emblem on his clothing when she washed it.  “The DOS…?” She did not actually know what it meant.

“A strange part of Ishgard.  It stands for Dravanian Occult Society.  They study all manner of dark aether around here.  Ser Jarvaillen himself just visited the sealed Great Gubal Library recently, in search of more knowledge.  They say he had quite the time quelling the evil within, but it is admirable he is so dedicated to his role.  The Holy See is dedicated to their cause, and wishes a great union between the knights and the organization to further connect the two.  Lucky enough, he apparently has a daughter my age, well… the same age as many men, I suppose, but...” he became lost in thought.

Fi’Teri reflected a moment at last night’s events glumly, slowly nodding.   _ “That could explain…” _

“Lyniastas?  Where is my wonderful visitor this day?” an angelic voice echoed from around the corner.  Just then, the storm outside took a turn, and a harsh rain began to wreck havok on the door and windows to the state just behind the pair.  From around the corner, Alyssita slowly, yet gracefully stepped forward, donning the same dazzling green dress as before, just much more composed.  In her shadow, Fi’Teri’s mother humbly stood.  “Well?  What do you think, darling?”

Fi’Teri glanced at Lyniastas, who stood, mouth slightly agape.  “My, my goodness,  _ you _ are the beautiful Alyssita I’ve heard of?  Color me impressed such beauty would come and ask for me by name.  I am truly honored, miss.” He walked to her, kneeling, taking her hand and pressing a light kiss upon her middle knuckle.  “Tis only proper I greet you like a queen.”

Alyssita raised her eyebrows and gasped, giggling at the notion.  “Oh, goodness, a strong brute in the arena, yet a gentleman all the same?  I am beside myself in knowing such a man exists!  Come, we’ve much to discuss over a meal.  Please, this way.” Despite her treatment of Fi’Teri, Alyssita was perfectly cordial with Lyniastas.

Fi’Teri could not help but grumble and cross her arms, looking down, sighing.   _ “It is the very nature of things that this happens,” _ she thought.   _ “For me to even indulge a single whim in-” _

“Fi’Teri, was it?” she looked up to see Lyniastas had returned but a pace away.  She nodded at him, which he returned with a smile.  “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

Nervously, she nodded back, “Th… The pleasure was all mine, Sir Lyn…”

He winked at her, and off they went to the dining hall, situated but a single door away.  There, a large buffet of courses had already been laid in preparation for the meeting.  Large cooked birds, vegetables prepared a multitude of ways, even a collection of wines lie arranged on the large rectangular table in the center of the room.  Lyniastas was taken back.  Even a bit deeper into the home, the torrential rain outside could be heard attacking the roof.   


“M’lady, this… is so excessive!  We could never dine on everything upon the table.”

“Fret not, my dear Lyniastas.  I had no idea what you liked, so I had them make it all!” Alyssita laughed.  Lyniastas nervously nodded, attempting to show understanding, yet he still appeared confused.  “You are to sit across from me, right here!” she pointed to a chair next to the end of the table.  He immediately crossed to the other side, drawing her chair first for her to sit.  She giggled again.  “My, does your generosity know no bounds?”

“I am the visitor this day, Alyssita.  I will do what I must to provide in my stead here.”

“Nonsense, please sit.  We’ve much to discuss.”  After a short tuck to seat her toward the table, Lyniastas obeyed, taking a seat beside her.  Fi’Teri and her mother also entered the room and stood by the door.  Alyssita glanced at them, raised her hand, and snapped her fingers.  “Slave, please bring the wine selection to Lyniastas so that he might sample all we have to offer him.”  She snapped again, making Lyniastas look first to her hand, then the two at the door to the room, noting Fi’Teri approaching.

“N...Now that won’t be necessary, I am just fine with water-” Lyniastas began in protest, not wanting Fi’Teri to put out the effort.

“Nonsense!” Alyssita chuckled.  “You simply must.  We’ve such delicacies here, the type of thing Costa Del Sol wishes it offered.  Go on, pour them, with haste.” She continued to be insistent toward Fi’Teri, who quietly struggled with a cork on a bottle.  Lyniastas took note and attempted to speak again.

“Really, I… perhaps I could help, she appears to struggle…” He pushed his seat back, standing up.

Alyssita rolled her eyes.  “Ugh, that’s the thing with these new ones.  They can never get the job done.  This poor thing can’t even remember to bring me breakfast in the morning.  She is truly a lost cause.  Don’t waste your effort, Lyniastas.  She will be on the street before long, starving, as she should be.”

“Ah… I…” Fi’Teri stammered, still fighting with the cork, her hands shaking.  Her mother stood at the room’s edge, not ordered to assist, so she stood still in wait.  Alyssita enjoyed watching the struggle.

Lyniastas shook his head and walked over.  “Here, with corks, the trick is…” he peered about the room, noting a corkscrew.  “Ah, yes!  This.”  He grabbed it, opening his hands to be offered the bottle.  Fi’Teri stopped, and looked upon his gentle gaze once more.  She obeyed, slowly moving her hands toward his.  As the bottle exchanged, she could feel his firm, warm hands upon hers.  Her face flushed once more.  She reeled her hands back.  “Ah, ah!  I’m not done with you yet.  Today, you learn!” he smiled.  Taking one hand, he opened the corkscrew and began to twist it into the cork after firmly placing the bottle on the table.  Fully twisted in, he took her hand and placed it over the tool, tapping her finger on the metallic edge grabbing the top of the bottle.  “This is your leverage.  Pull against that the right way, and it’s an easy pop.”  He smiled at her.  She blinked twice and nodded in agreement, unable to speak toward his kindness.

Alyssita scoffed, folding her arms and rolling her eyes.  “You’re wasting precious time you could be spending with me.”

Lyniastas turned, still wearing his warm gaze.  “Ah, but if all goes well, we’ve the rest of our lives together, and that is certainly something, no?” These words soothed her a bit, but just as they parted his lips, Fi’Teri, startled by them, popped the wine open and the bottle tilted, falling toward Lyniastas.  The drink began pouring out, enveloping his garb in the sticky, sweet scent.  “O-Oh my!” he exclaimed.  He quickly grabbed the bottle, standing it upright.  Fi’Teri, shocked again, brought her hands to her face, unable to complete an apology.   
  
“I… I… Sir Lyn, I…” she took a step back.  A crack of thunder shook the house.  Alyssita stood.

Lyniastias realized his look of surprise was startling the poor girl.  He laughed, brushing one hand over the wet part of his pants.  “Oh dear, these are standard issue.  Nothing to be concerned with.  I’ve a hundred like them.”

This did not go over well with the elezen woman.  “That does it, you pathetic wench.  I asked for one day without your failure and your nonsense.  You’ve been here a week and it’s a week to much for me.”  She stomped her way around the table, approaching the two on the other side.  Fi’Teri’s mother looked away, clenching her jaw.

Alyssita’s upper lip trembled in anger as she raised her hand to strike Fi’Teri.  Just as the hand began to descend upon her, Lyniastas caught the blow at her wrist.  Alyssita gritted her teeth at him.  “What!  Are you to stand in my way from rightfully disciplining my slave?”

Lyniastas looked to Alyssita with a pained expression on his face, then to Fi’Teri, cowering just below her, shaking in fear.  He took a quick breath and swallowed, considering his next words.  “Alyssita, my dress is of no conern, I assure you.  Besides…” he pondered, “...my walk home would do well to rinse it out at this rate, no?” he chuckled lightly, threading his hand in hers, bringing it down slowly to their sides.  Her gaze drifted into his, diffusing her.  Fi’Teri took a step away.  He released Alyssita’s hand, and the thick tension of the room began to dissipate.

Fi’Teri stood again, looking away from them, so that they could not see the tears streaming down her face.  She did her best to hide her sobs, her hands fists at her sides.   _ “He… why would he… this man… he is incredible…” _

“My goodness!  What a scene this appears to be!” a booming voice clamoured from the entrance of the room.  Fi’Teri jumped, taking another step deeper into the chamber, knowing that voice.  Nearly the very same she heard last night.

There, Ser Jervaillen stood, arms folded, surveilling the scene.  “Why, this food is untouched!  What happened here?”

“Father!” Alyssita squealed, “...the new slave spilled wine on poor Lyniastas!  He was so kind to spare her judgement, but now he is covered in it!”

“M...My apologies, Ser Jervaillen!” Lyniastas turned and quickly strided to greet the man.  “It.. it is an honor to meet you!  A privilege to share in your home this day.  Please, a bit of drink my lap is but nothing to meet your daught-”

A crash of thunder shook the ornate wooden beams of the home.  Even the paintings on the wall rattled.  The rain sounded as it were ripping the shingles from the roof of the home now.

Lyniasted inhaled to continue, but Ser Jervaillen raised a hand.  “Boy, pay our discourtesy no mind.  The girl is new, she is clearly shaken.  I understand.  Her discipline will come in due time.”

Fi’Teri sighed.  This is the man she knew.  But, then, who was the man she saw last night…?”

“The weather has taken a frightful turn.  You’ve a mess for clothes.  We owe you the courtesy of a night in our guest chambers to resolve all of this for you.  Your meeting with Alyssita needs to be an experience we reflect on fondly, as she really has taken a liking to you, Lyniastas.  I pray you two find solace in one another.”  The tall elezen smiled, his long, wavy blond hair pushed back behind his ears.  He had brown eyes, which made Lyniastas reflect that Alyssita probably inherited her deep green from her mother, wherever she might be.

“Ser Jervaillen, I simply couldn’t impose.  The quarters are not too far, and I’ve trained plenty in these conditions… Ishgard may be cold, but I’ve the skin to weather that storm.  Such is the way of the temple knight.” He swallowed hard, attempting to be polite to the man.

“Aye, and leave this courtship on bye until you return?  When is that?”

“Er… I would have to… see when they would…”

“And report to the Holy See that you have not secured the hand of the daughter of the OBS leader?”

“Ser Jervaillen, ‘tis my goal to provide for her, not…”

“And deny an olive branch from House Haillenarte to provide on your behalf in protest to our kindness?”

Lyniastas bit his tongue.  “Ser Jervaillen, ‘tis a…” he stopped, knowing he could not fight.  “O...Of course, Ser.  I will see to my chambers then.”

Ser Jervaillen nodded warmly.  “Not before a decent meal, lad.  Please, sit.”  Lyniastas obeyed.  “Not me nor my daughter will mind or make comment to your scent.  You can begin by telling me where you plan on specializing to serve the Holy See!”

Alyssita calmly strutted back to her chair and sat.  Ser Jervaillen took his place at the head of the table, between her and Lyniastas, who also sat back down.  They began idle chatter, and the room eventually warmed a bit.

Fi’Teri turned to leave to collect herself as they sat.  When she glanced upon Ser Jervaillen, his eyes were fixated on her as Lyniastas carried on about his training.  Ser Jervaillen’s expression became sharp and intense, with a clenched lower jaw, as he glared deep into her eyes.  She swore she still saw the red hue within his pupil, like the night prior.  She exhaled sharply, looking straight down in fear, sulking out of the room while her mother took point to serve the meal.  The conversation eventually became light, and the three shared a delightful time while the storm outside raged on.

_To be continued..._


	9. Her Past, Her Calling (Pt.2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fi'Teri engages the evil alongside Lyniastas, the DOS intervenes.

Night had fallen around the home of Ser Jervaillen of House Haillenarte.  Within the guest chamber, Lyniastas had taken leave alone, writing a letter on the desk in the room.  For a guest suite, the room pertained the quality of the rest of manor - purple rugs, silken sheets, even paintings of Ishgard’s incredible mountainscapes lined the walls.  The room was illuminated by lamps presumably using aether, as he continued to put quill to ink in silence, save the light scratching of his penmanship.

“S...Sir Lyniastas, I have your evening tea…” a meek voice rang through the door.  Lyniastas looked up and turned, seeing Fi’Teri in her maid attire, a tray in hand with a pot and cup.  He smiled at her, noting large bags under her eyes.  He had continually heard Alyssita berate her throughout the day, it had no doubt taken a toll on her.   
  
“I am glad to see you well.  Please, enter.” Fi’Teri obeyed, slowly stepping with the tray wobbling in both hands.  She appeared weak.   
  
“I… I apologize if it not extremely hot… I took great care to ensure I did not spill…” she continued to focus on every slow step, attempting to stop her shaking.

Lyniastas stood, unable to watch her suffer.  “Please, stand still.” she obeyed once more, and he walked over, taking the pot of tea from the tray into his hands.  She blushed in anxiety.  He smiled, walking the pot over to the desk, placing it there.

“S-Sir! You needn’t-”

“Oh, hush, Fi’Teri, please.” he waved a hand.  “It is clear you intend to do well.  The best thing you can do for yourself is relax a bit.”

“Tis difficult, my mistress, she-”

Lyniastas sighed, frowning, looking out the window that was placed above the desk, showing a view of Ishgard’s natural mountaintops.  “Your mistress indeed in her way.  She always says and does as she pleases, no?”

“In my short time here, it seems so.” Fi’Teri relaxed in his presence almost immediately.

“So it is as it will be.” he looked sullen.  Fi’Teri took note of his condition.   
  
“S...Sir Lyniastas, do you truly believe in love?” she said, placing the cup on the desk.  She lifted the teapot and tilted it, slowly dripping the contents into the cup without a drop spilling.

Lyniastas chuckled.  “My, what good man wouldn’t?”

“Do you… believe Alyssita is your love?” she hid intentions in her tone, but did so poorly.  Her interest was very apparent.

Lyniastas nodded slowly, thinking of his answer.  “I…” he began.

Fi’Teri became flushed in the silence between answers.  She felt her ears flit and ring when she realized her forwardness.  Her tail swiped to and fro and she held her breath.

“I suppose there is a time to consider that matter of things, and I have not realized such a fact yet.  That isn’t to say it isn’t possible, but that it is no so just yet.”

Fi’Teri sighed.  “Have you... never been in love?”

Lyniastas laughed again, louder this time.  “But of course!  What boy goes through his childhood without the dream of his young girlfriend becoming his life partner?  Why, ‘tis a beautiful thing for a young mind to dream.”

“Who was that girl to you?”

“Well, it’s… complicated at this time…” he looked down to the letter he was writing.  “...as a boy might dream, all the same it might always be just that - a dream.”

Fi’Teri nodded, seemingly understanding.  “She is… for someone else?”

Lyniastas shook his head.  “No.  ‘Tis I who is seemingly for someone else.”

Fi’Teri nodded.  “So, this, with Alyssita, it’s…”

“Aye.” he grumbled.  “‘Tis.”

Fi’Teri frowned.  “That just won’t do… the world should not be fair to you.  I can tell you are a kind man.  Worthy of the best love that anyone can give.  You do not know me, and yet still you speak with me and come to my aid.  Look at me now, I…” she lost her train of thought, looking into his eyes.

“I…” she gasped.  She could feel the strain of the week finally catching her, as she finally disarmed in his presence.  Her body began to felt weak, her consciousness wavering.

“F-Fi?” Lyniastas leaned his chair forward as her head tilted back, falling to the bed with a light  _ foomph _ .  She had passed out, lying on the bed.  Lyniastas stood over her, peering about, looking for what to do.  “Ah, er…” he looked about the room, still standing over her.  Her legs were draped off the bed, and he stood between them.  He leaned down, placing one arm at her side, pressing his palm against her forehead to feel her temperature.  In the same moment, another voice came by.

“Oh, Lyniastas!  I do hope you are being cared fo-” Alyssita gracefully walked right into the room, a smug smile on her face.  She was donned in a form-fitting, black silken night gown, seductively appealing to every curve on her body.  She surveyed the scene before her as she entered.  Immediately, her head turned, her eyes widened, and she bared her teeth at Lyniastas leaning over Fi’Teri, who lie on the bed beneath him.  “Wh...What are you  _ doing _ !?” she shrieked.

Lyniastas stood right away.  “M-My apologies, she was just serving me tea, and-”

“Save your chatter!  What has my slave done to seduce you so!?  Th-that was what I…” she growled.  “She will pay for alluring to you so!”

The loud voice made Fi’Teri groan and bring a hand to her face, rubbing it.  “Wh...what did I…?”

Alyssita stormed toward the bed as Fi’Teri blinked, gaining composure of her surroundings, barely cognizant of the situation.  The elezen woman shakily raised her hand into a fist, ready to come down on Fi’Teri.  As she moved to strike, Fi’Teri glanced at the incoming strike, and moved to clutch herself in bracing for the impact.  Yet, it did not come.  She opened one eye and looked up.

Again, Lyniastas stood above her, one arm extended, gripping Alyssita’s hand at the wrist, clenching it tightly.  He looked the elezen with a glare.

“Alyssita, please.  She is not to blame.  We were just having conversation and-”

“Silence, my dear!  For I know!  I know she… she-!” Alyssita pointed to the teacup.  “She has poisoned you to think… think naughty things of her!  And take her right here in this room!  She is a demon!  One week of making my life miserable, capped with her taking my love from me!” she moaned dramatically, snapping her hand from Lyniastas’ grasp.  Alyssita turned, stomping toward the door once more.  As she stood in the door frame, she grasped the knob with one hand, turning back.   
  
“Worry not, Lyniastas.  My father will have her executed this night.  I move to his chamber now to make it so.” she laughed a familiar cackle, slamming the door, and heading off down the hallway.  Lyniastas quickly pulled Fi’Teri to her feet, then made for the door with quick steps.

“We’ve not a moment to lose.  This is a grave misunderstanding.  I will go.” Lyniastas said, reaching for the doorknob.  Fi’Teri shook her head, running one hand through her dark hair.

“N-Not without me!  I deserve a say, I’m… I’m no slave!  I deserve… I deserve a say, don’t I…?  Sir Lyniastas?”

He had continued to run, not looking back to speak.  She followed with a brisk pace.

\---

“Alyssita!?  Alyssita!!” Lyniastas bounded corridor to corridor, intently listening to the echoes of her footsteps ahead.  He had little bearing in the home, despite being in it throughout the day - the purple rugs, the portraits, nothing seemed to make sense of what he might have already seen prior.  Eventually, he came to the grand entry, where he saw her racing up the steps.

“Alyssita!  No!  Come, let us speak of this!”

“Never, Lyniastas!  There is only room for one in your heart!  Me!” she continued on.  He groaned and made for the stairs.  At the top, she turned right, and he followed quickly behind.  Fi’Teri was but a few steps behind Lyniastas as well.  Down the hall, Alyssita stopped and turned, placing a hand on another doorknob, looking at them.  They stopped to face her a few yalms away.

“Y...You… You will pay for this, slave!  Just watch!”  She screeched in laughter, turning and opening the door, looking within.  Her face went from sharp grin to horror as she surveyed within the room.

“Wh… F...Father!?” Just as she spoke the words, a greenish aether poured from the room in a piercing line, forcing her against the wall opposite the door in the hallway.  There seemed to be an intense wind serving as a weight against her, preventing her from moving.  She struggled, choking, as her feet lifted from the floor, lifting her against the wall, the green aether seemingly piercing her chest. More wafted from the room and about in the hallway like fog, yet the intense concentration of energy continued to have full restraint over her.

“G...ack-” she fought futily, tears welling up in her eyes as the pressure on her neck pressed increasingly hard.  Lyniastas raised an arm in front of Fi’Teri, but she was already cowering at the sight.

Suddenly, Alyssita’s head jutted and flipped to one side with a resounding  _ CRACK _ .  The aether began to subside, slowly dragging her body down the wall, slumping her to a sitting position on the floor, her back still against the wall.  As the concentration of aether eventually faded into the light green fog, her head draped and hung low over her body, her hair obscuring her face.  It was obvious the position of her head was unnaturally placed on her neck, though they could not see it directly.

Lyniastas could feel his breath, his heart slamming in his chest.  Fi’Teri murmured cries in her hands.  He tilted his head back, whispering, “We need to get out of here.  Now.”

Fi’Teri began to nod, but then they heard a cry come from within the room Alyssita had opened moments before her demise.   
  
“Why would you kill her?  Oh, please, spare me…” Fi’Teri knew immediately it was her mother.  She sprung to life, making for the room.

“Fi’Teri, no!” Lyniastas cried to no avail.  Fi’Teri quickly made for the doorframe, looking into the chamber.  Lyniastas, just behind, pushed her to the side, placing both hands in front of him in defense of what might come.  Yet it did not happen.  He opened his eyes to look within, Fi’Teri climbing to her feet, looking on with him.

Within, a monster which resembled a Ser Jervaillen, yet a demon all the same, knelled in a massive bed, straddling Fi’Teri’s mother.  They were both naked, Fi’Teri’s mother’s head draped lightly off the bedside.  She was crying as the demon pressed his thighs against her, thrusting his massive girth into her.  Her loud sobs were draining out his grunts of effort as her breasts bounded with the thrusting motion.   
  
“I grow tired of your species!  Your struggle!  Your fake denial of my ownership over your pleasure!  You have yet to draw your true power unto me!  Be pleasured by my efforts or die this night!  I will have your soul one way or another!”

“I will not give m… my life to you, demon.  I chose this f-AH!... Fate… to protect those in House Haillenarte… to protect... Fi'Teri...”

The demon growled, ceasing his thrusting.  He placed one hand on her face, covering her mouth, as her squeal reduced to a murmur beneath his palm, turning her head to and fro fighting his immense grip in vain.   
  
“Have it your way.  Your daugher might prove a better meal to satiate my powers anyway.  She is much younger, much more full of life anyway. She will serve me much better.  You have been nothing but a waste, stringing me along.  Such a shame.”

Fi’Teri watched in horror as the demon began a sort of chant in a tongue neither her or Lyniastas understood  He leaned in, interlocking his eyes with hers.  When he finished, his eyes became a pale white, as did Fi’Teri’s mothers’.  Their blank glances did not stray from one another.  Fi’Teri pushed her weight into Lyniastas and ran into the chamber.  The grand bedroom resembled the others yet still, purple rug, silken sheets, and all.  Yet, on one wall, a fireplace donned a sparking, life fire.  She ran over to the hearth, and grabbed a poker from a set of iron tools beside it.  She yelled, leaping to the bed, pointed end in the air, and struck the demon from the back, causing him to growl as a thick, dark blood gushed from the wound, splattering Fi’Teri in the face and staining the ceiling from the force of the blow.  She gritted her teeth, clenching her jaw, turning the pointer beneath the demon’s grey skin below its hunched back.

“Y-You monster!  What have you done to my mother!?” Fi’Teri shrieked.  The demon rose with another growl, turning, causing Fi’Teri to stumble off balance.  She caught a glimpse of her mother, her face draped over the bedside, her eyes still a milky white.  She looked the demon in its cold gaze, meeting her clear blue eyes with his black and red ones.  The man barely resembled Ser Jervaillen, though similarities in his form could still be seen, like his pointed ears, and his facial structure.  The demon snarled, extending one arm, swiping Fi’Teri from the bed, and she flung across the room in the air until her head met the wall with a clamor.  She tumbled to the floor, falling on her face, motionless.  

“N...Ngh” she struggled to rise, but the force of the blow had her disoriented, and she could not make the floor from the wall.  She struggled, grasping at both, attempting to make amends with gravity.  The demon slowly stepped off the bed and approached her, the poker still driven in its back, blood freely flowing from the wound.  As it walked, it was notably hunched over, the spine curved slightly behind the neck and protruding.  Its hands no longer had nails, but came to callous points, and the fingers were longer and thinner than a normal elezen hand.

The demon raised its hand to strike Fi’Teri.  She looked up to see the grimacing face of the demon, its wide, cruel eyes fixated on her.  It snarled as it moved to attack, foaming spit from its mouth frothing, dripping to the floor.

“You are next!” the demon shouted, beginning to extend its hands to take her.  Its voice was a low gurgle, but held a raspy sharpness to strike fear into her all the same.  As it was but a yalm away, from behind, Lyniastas took hold of the iron pointed tool in the demon’s back, thrusting it further in, causing the demon to lose balance and allow Fi’Teri time enough to scramble away.  The demon shrieked from the force Lyniastas applied to what was now an iron stake.

“Run!  Get help Fi’Teri!” Lyniastas forced out between a grunt from the force he was applying to the handle.

“No!  I’m staying with you!” she cried.  “We can do this together!”

“I’m telling you to get help!  There’s just no way!” Lyniastas lifted the iron poker from the body of the demon, leaving a sizable hole that poured blood.  The demon placed one hand against the wall, bracing itself before turning, swiping with one of its clawed hands.  Lyniastas braced himself with a stance of one foot forward, one back, and easily deflected the blow.  He responded with another quick stab to the demon’s side.

“ _ Now, _ Fi’Teri!  Find the DOS!  They will know what to do!” he yelled.  Stunned, she made for the door behind Lyniastas.  As she left the room, she looked to her mom’s lifeless body one last time, her eyes still clouded, staring into nothingness.  She was hurried, but she swore she could see a sort of black ring around her head on the sheets.  As she took to the hallway, she heard a loud  _ crash _ as the demon bellowed another sizable roar.  She also nearly tripped on Alyssita, still hunched over, unmoving.

Fi’Teri flung one of the front doors to the estate open, and was greeted with a bitter wind and sleet.  She knew her maid attire was hardly enough to brave the elements.  Looking to and fro, she noted one of Ser Jervaillen’s black jackets hanging on a rack.  She slid it on, and it draped almost as low as her skirt.  She made into the night without another hesitation, still hearing Lyniastas’ efforts upstairs against his foe.

\---

“Gods, I have been searching for far too long.  What is wrong with these men!?  A little snow and they all vanish!?”

Fi’Teri ran through Ishgard with little regard to her heart pounding, and her body screaming for a moment's respite.  The weather clearly had taken a toll on the amount of soldiers taking watch over the area, leading her to their headquarters.  The freezing wind knew no quarter, as sleet ripped across her face, causing her to wince and rub her eyes at every turn.  The DOS jacket she donned flung to and fro, protecting her body from the immediate elements, but did little for her pace as the dense, wet fabric draped around her continued to weigh her down.  Her face no longer carried the blood of the demon, as the sleet had scraped it off from screeching past her face in the wind.  She gritted her teeth and pressed on, bounding down slick stairs toward the Congregation of Knights Most Heavenly.  The two armored knights holding post outside as she approached drew concern immediately at her frantic approach, placing one hand on their weapons.

“Halt, citizen!  Pray tell, what is your purpose for entering this night?” one soldier spoke aloud.  The other nervously looked at the one who spoke and Fi’Teri, as she did not slow.   


“S...sir!  She’s coming!  What do we-!?”

“Silence!  Look!  She is donning the DOS jacket.”  The man pointed.   
  
“B-but I don’t recognize-” the younger voice stammered.

“Stay your hand!  Are you not aware of their new recruits?  For all we know, she… a-aye, m’lady, if we might have a word-” he leaned forward slightly, as if to address Fi’Teri as she was yalms away.  Yet still, she did not slow.

“I come… bearing news of Ser Jervaillen!  I need… the DOS… I need them now, I…” she sped right past the bewildered men, who looked to each other, then followed her with a spritely pace.  She used the force of her run to press against a massive wooden door, one of two which rounded and came to a point in the middle.  She entered the chamber with great clamour and her exasperated presence, enough to draw attention of a few knights nearby on a short break, and a man sitting at a table in the center of the poorly lit room.  An aged elezen man in formal chain attire, he looked upon her.  She assumed him a figure of authority and approached him, resting her hands on the table and gasping for breath, lowering her head.

“I… I need, I need help…” Fi’Teri panted between words.

“S-Sir, he just!” one of the soldiers from outside spoke.  The elezen sitting raised a hand.  He noted the girl’s attire beneath the jacked had brown stains, resembling blood.

“Let her speak.  M’lady, you are a member of the DOS?”

Fi’Teri took one large breath to collect herself enough to speak.  “I am not.  I am… employed… by House Haillenarte.  Duty is the work in… Ser Jervaillen’s estate.  There’s… been an incident, I need the DOS, it…”

“Lass, do you require the DOS because they are simply Ser Jervaillen’s men, or is it…?” the elezen man peered at the girl, a quiet hurry in his voice.

“He… he is not himself, he did something to mother, Lyniastas stayed behind, he, I… s-something dark is afoot, please help Lyniastas!   _ I need the DOS!” _ her cried echoed throughout the hall as she slammed her hands on the table.  The man’s weathered eyes peered about the room, and he leaned back, looking up, in deep thought, crossing his hands.  She exhaled impatiently.  After a moment, he creaked his chair forward, cracking his knuckles, and eyeing the table once more.  He looked to the table at various pearls of varying color.  He drew a bright green one, placing it to his ear, turning to the side away from her, speaking in a low tone.  Fi’Teri glared at his solemn, slow presence, as if it were an insult.  She peered about the room nervously, however, the soldiers appeared to be back about their business, looking to take no interest in night work.   
  
“DOS request.  Brygym, you say?  Aye, ‘tis.  Ah, let us save the idle chatter.  You’ve apparently a threat to quell.  Aye.  Ser Jervaillen’s estate near The Last Vigil.  Yes.  You heard it right.  Eh?  Oh, appears to be a servant to the house here.  She has a jacket of yours on, otherwise I’d assume she was a common beggar looking for trouble.  Yes, hold, I will.” the elezen man peered back to the other side of the table, realizing his intruder had fled.  He looked left and right, then to the door, just long enough to see it slowly shutting, the shadow of her black hair and pointed ears barely visible through the crack.  “Miss?  Hello…?”

\---

“Lyniastas needs me… I need to ensure he is safe!”

She was not aware she had such endurance as she pressed on back home, yet thoughts of her elezen savior motivated her to find unending strength deep within her.  The sleet continued to sting her eyes, yet her conviction was stronger than any of the elements before her.  She turned a corner after a large flight of stairs, returning to the homes above, towering over Ishgard.  There were practically no obstructions, as no one in their right mind would have any business in such harsh conditions.  Yet still, she ran through every cobblestone way, continuing her approach back to the estate.

As she turned the final corner, she realized there were two men barely ahead of her, their backs to her.  Their proximity to her caught her off guard so close to the corner, causing her to attempt a quick stop.  However, the ground was slick, and she could not find her footing.  She yelped, and braced for impact on one of the men.  As they turned, she collided with the smaller of the two, toppling him over as they both fell to the solid, cold flat rock path.  With an audible “ _ Oomph!” _ they both lie still for a moment before the man groaned, shuffling up to his elbows, bending his knees upward, looking upon her.

  
“Aye, lass ye gotta-” the young Hyur began, looking at her.  He could not continue.  His jaw lie open as he looked upon her deep blue eyes, squinting lightly from the impact.  Her black hair disheveled, partially obstructing her view.  Her ears flopped to one side, her tail curled up her back.  “Ye.. watch where… goodness, such a deep sapphire in your gaze…” The young man had a slight shadow from not shaving, but had flowing, messy dark brown hair that draped just above his shoulders, flowing freely in the brisk wind.  His sharp gaze did not deter from her face.

“Tien, you bumbling fool, get with it.” the other man, a large Roegadyn, grabbed the young Hyur by the shoulder and brought him to his feet.  “Ser Jervaillen’s estate is just down the way.  Ma’am, ye-” he looked down at her, noticing the jacket as she rose to sit on her feet.  “The jacket.  So it was you.”

She looked nervously at him, before attempting to stand.  She yelped in pain, clutching her ankle, as she fell to one knee.

“A-Are you hurt!?  I apologize, I have been working out my legs so much, perhaps when yours collided with mine, they simply could not handle…” Tien could not console the girl with his feeble attempt, yet looking to bear a striking remark on his appearance all the same.  He flexed lightly.

“Gads, boy, of all the muscles you work, perhaps your brain could be one?”  The Roegadyn berated Tien.  He then extended a hand to Fi’Teri, helping her rise.  He took her in his arms, holding her up, and they kept a quick pace forward.  “I am Brygym.  I assume time is a factor here.  We will take you inside the estate for warmth.  Tell us where we might find Ser Jervaillen.” Fi’Teri nodded slowly.  A harsh wind blew against them, causing her to shut one eye and bury her face in his chest.  She noted Brygym steeled his resolve through it and did not waiver.   
  
“I could have carried the beautiful lass,” Tien objected.   
  
“Ye could always not be so crass with a woman who may have witnessed murder.” Brygym snapped.

  
“Aye, but… I’ve never laid eye on such a…”   
  
“Do not finish that sentence.  Your linkpearl is on, lest you forget.”  Tien gulped and looked down.  “Lalieri will no doubt lash you as it were without the rest of that sentence.”

“H...He did something to my mother.  In his room, upstairs, to the right…” Fi’Teri spoke quietly.  Brygym listened.  “I… I tried to stop him, he… he came after me, then.. Then he saved me… He told me to run, to find someone, to...”

“Who saved you, lass?”

“Lyniastas.  He seemed outmatched by Ser Jervaillen, whatever had come over him, I… I should not have left!” she burst into tears.

Upon hearing the name, Brygym nodded, an audible grunt in his throat as he put pieces in place.  “Ye did the right thing.  I recall that name...  he was to meet with Alyssita.  Ser Jervaillen was most impressed with the boy in rookie bouts the week prior.  ‘Heard she took quite a liking to him as well.  Didn’t he best you, Tien?”

Tien grumbled.  “He’s deft with weapons.  I had him!  I-”

Brygym shook his head.  “If ye did, we’d be singing a different tune.  Here we are.  Let us get inside.” He stopped in front a large, open iron gate, a door a few yalms within it.  They stepped right through, and Tien took the front door in his grasp and pushed it open.  They entered the home, being greeting with deafening silence.  Brygym moved slowly, carefully eyeing his surroundings.  The home had an unsettling stillness about it.  No creaking wood.  Even the wind outside was reduced to a whisper within the abode.  Candles, still lit, set a dim scene around them, barely illuminating the massive entryway.

Tien did not move from the door, frozen in place.  “S...Sir, I… I have not trained for…” his fear had caught up with him.  “...is… is there truly a…?”

Brygym groaned.  He motioned to release Fi’Teri, but she gripped him tightly.  He gave her a glance.  “Lass, I can’t have ye in danger.  Where did you see them last?”

“Upstairs… second door to the right… and you will not be leaving me.  My mother is up there.  Lyniastas is up there.  He… He needs us…”

“Yer of no use to us in this state.”

Fi’Teri snapped, “If you put me down, so help me I will follow.  Now, go.”

Brygym mumbled under his breath.  He looked back at Tien, still frozen in place, as if a wall was in front of him, preventing entry.

“I… I…”

“We cannot afford to wait.  We need to go, Tien.  Even the girl has more resolve, and she watched it happen.  You chose the DOS.  This is what we do.” Brygym shook his head and took for the stairs, Fi’Teri in tow.  Tien meekly stepped behind, careful to re-examine his surroundings with each step.

As Brygym reached the top step, he turned down the corridor, immediately noting the body sitting against the wall, hunched over, legs extended, hands at their sides.  He swallowed hard, starting slowly down the hallway still, looking to Fi’Teri, her determined look forward still.

“The door she is facing.  In there,” she whispered.  Brygym nodded.  As he approached the door frame, he then placed her at his side, his back against the wall.  Within the chamber, a weak glow of a dying fire crackled lightly, breaking the bleak silence that covered the home until that moment.  Brygym exhaled, placing a hand on a blade at his side, slowly drawing it with a slight  _ shhnn _ , exposing the bright silver steel.  After a moment of bracing, he swiftly spun, leaping into the chamber.  Fi’Teri clenched her jaw, struggling a step forward, followed.  Her weight could not be supported on her bad foot, and she lunged forward, catching herself on the far side of the door frame, looking into the room.

“G...Gods… what…?” Brygym slowly lowered his sword to survey the room.  Fi’Teri’s mother lie naked and motionless on the bed, her head draping from the edge, sheet disheveled all around her listless corpse.  Her mouth was agape, her eyes staring endlessly, a deep grey.  On the sheets around her, a black ash semi-circle brushed around her head.  The fire in the hearth popped as a single wisp of ember flitted upward.  Though the room was dimly lit, blood splatter was apparent nearly everywhere - on the ceiling, across most every wall, pooling on the floor… it was even on the single window in the room, where the moon’s bright glow illuminated a red hue through the stain.

Fi’Teri gagged at the sight of seeing her mother again, dead before her.  She sobbed, clutching the door frame.  “She’s… she’s really dead… isn’t she…?”

Brygym looked to one side, unable to tell the girl of her mother’s fate, noticing another body.  “S...Ser Jervaillen… this cannot be… what manner of torture happened here…?” On the floor, the disfigured corpse of Ser Jervaillen lie.  The fireplace poker stood straight up, pressed through one eye, as if thrust through as a final, definitive blow.  Fresh blood still trickled from the fresh wound.  On the man’s bare body, other stab wounds still oozed with a dark red stream.  What caught Brygym off guard most was his shape - Ser Jervaillen’s skin seemed of an altered colour, a much darker, greyer hue.  His teeth were notably changed, slight protruding fangs pierced through his frowning lips.  The other eye, staring straight up, was pure black with a red iris.  “This… this is no man… Gods, just today, I spoke to him, a normal man… we spoke a-about… Alyssita… about our schedules, about…”

“Sir Lyniastas… he’s…” tears welled in Fi’Teri’s eyes.  “He… saved me to face this demon…”

“It’s dead.” a groan echoed in the room as the fire cracked once more.  From the other side of the bed, Lyniastas stood, his face covered in cuts, one eye shut from a growing bruise.  He was clutching his stomach, drawing attention to a red stain.  He shook from attempting to stand, grunting with each small movement, clutching the bedpost, leaning on the bed, even speaking between gasping breaths.

“Lyn!  I-!” Fi’Teri took a lunging step forward to greet him, only to fall again, her feeble injured ankle giving way to her move.  “Ahn-!  No!”  She crawled toward him, clenching her nails into the rug, pulling herself toward him.  “I will.. I will help you with your wounds, please let me!"

Lyniastas continued to attempt to stand, but instead his grip on the bed slipped with the loose-fitting sheets and he tumbled to the floor once more, yelping at the impact, clutching his side.    He groaned as blood gushed from his wound upon hitting the floor.  Fi’Teri scrambled by his side, peering about his body, lifting his shirt.  She bit her lip as helplessness settled in.  The wound, a deep cut, oozed red as Lyniastas’ chest quickly rose and fell with short, labored breaths.  Fi’Teri knew in that moment - this strike was intended for her.  She would have been the one on the floor, suffering.  Yet, instead, this man, a stranger, had come to her aid, to give her life and place his own on the line.  Tears continued to drip down her quivering cheeks as she formed a loud swallow to collect her thoughts.

“Th..this wound, I… I…” Fi’Teri closed her eyes, taking a breath.  “I can help, as best I can… I saw this once… perhaps...” She yanked a pillow from the bed, pulling the cover off, tearing it into a longer strip and began to wrap it around his body tightly..  “Y-You’ll be fine.. I… I will see to it you will be okay, sir Lyniastias, I… I owe you my life, I…” Fi’Teri continued to address his wounds between streaming tears and sobs.  Lyniastas groaned, unable to speak through the pain, lifting an arm over his eyes.  “I would do anything for you…”

Brygym was leaning over Ser Jervaillen’s body, taking note to every inhuman feature that had came to be, comparing what was before him to the image he could recall from earlier.  He noted his hands had thinned, drawing to a point at the fingertip, like thin, gnarly claws.  Blood splatter could be seen from one arm.  His could not look into his eyes, the black alone was off-putting for the Roegadyn to even glance.  Ser Jervaillen’s structure also seemed skewed - his shoulders notably broader, slightly hunched, with a curve to the spine just below the next.  His teeth had warped to a point, protruding slightly from his greyish lips.  “This… is no man…”

From outside, a large heave could be heard, of someone losing their lunch.  “Urgh…” the groan of Tien echoed through the master bedroom as another hacking sound and audible  _ splishing  _ could be heard, as his inside emptied unto the floor in the hallway.  Brygym stood, stepping toward the door leaning out.  There, Tien was examining Alyssita’s body.  He had pulled her hair from draped over her face to the side, revealing a knotted twist in her neck, so warped it exposed bone from her spine.  Her eyes were petrified in rigor mortis, showing an expressing of untold horror.  He was hunched over next to her, his head arched to the side, wiping his mouth.  “I’ve never…” he began.  “Gods, no man could…”

“Tien,” Brygym commanded.  “Why don’t you go downstairs and send word.  Full report.  Tell…” Brygym looked to Ser Jervaillen’s wretched body.  “...Tell, er… Lalieri.  She will know how to move from here.”

“...I should have never…”

Brygym’s voice boomed.  “That’s an order.  You have chosen this life.  This is what we are faced with.  I am not saying I have ever quite experienced something like this, but I’ve the nerve to face reality.  Consider this a lesson, private.”

Tien shuffled to his feet, his head still looming.  He met eyes with Brygym, a sad, sullen expression.  He saluted Brygym, turning around.  “A...Aye sir… I shall… d-do that… Gods, her neck, I…” he slowly stepped away, placing a hand up to his ear, his steps lurching him left and right slowly.  “This… this is Private Murija of DOS… Yes… Immediate aid… cas… casualties...” his stammering voice deteriorated the farther he got away.

Brygym sighed, turning back to the room, walking toward the two left.  Lyniastas was still breathing, and Fi’Teri continued to dress and compress his wound.  Brygym took note to the quality of pressure she was able to apply, and correctly treat the immediate bleeding without real equipment.  She tied the fabric off, immediately taking one of Lyniastas’ hands into her own.  She scooted painfully up to his head, taking it in her lap, stroking his hair with her other hand tenderly.

“It will be okay… It will be okay… I won’t let anything happen to you…” she hushed as a whisper in his ear.

“You are my savior.”

\---

The sun was high over Ishgard. Life had returned to normal in the city, the storm fully passed.

“Three days have passed, lass, you’ve yet to leave his side,” Brygym sat beside Fi’Teri in a medical barracks, sunlight pouring through large, open panes.  Many cots were separated by hanging curtains, as staff hustled to and fro around the large space.  The stone walls arched to high wooden beams above - the floor a similar shade of wood.  Before them, Lyniastas lie in bed, his eyes shut in peaceful slumber.  Charts and other medical utensils lie on a table nearby.

“I will not leave.  I have nothing now but him, and the life he granted me to live in his bravery.” Fi’Teri hung her head a bit, looking to the ground.  “As I’m sure you’ve looked into me, at this point, you’d know I’ve little to offer the world anyway.”

Brygym crossed his arms, looking up.  “Aye, Fi’Teri.  I have.”

She lost composure a bit.  “What do you know?” she said, warily.

“I know you are not citizen of Ishgard.  I know you are not supposed to be here.  I know you’ve spent your life scraping by in our city’s dark alleys.  To survive was more than likely all you could ever learn to have.  It was interesting enough to know you were usually found causing trouble near where those who serve learn practical skills to deliver their labor to the Holy See.”

Fi’Teri slowly nodded in acceptance.  “If I’m going to learn, I might as well learn it from the best.  So, I suppose you’re going to kick me out, then, and leave me to my own devices.  I am to be your prisoner?”

“Aye, that’s one choice.”

“I would have rather the demon take my life instead, then,” she snapped.  “I’ve no purpose but him now.” she gazed upon Lyniastas.  “You will have to take me at my worst.”

“Be at ease, lass.  I said that was one choice.” Brygym chuckled.  “I’ve no intention to take you from Ishgard, depending on you.”

Fi’Teri’s ear flitted as she glanced to Brygym in confusion.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, Fi’Teri, three days prior, I saw quite a driven little lady in you.  I had someone within my own rank unable to press on, unable to move forward, unable to hold his lunch at the sight of what was before him, yet you put yourself in danger to protect him, you even knew how to dress a wound… as far as I’m concerned, you show promise to contribute to our cause.”

Fi’Teri was taken by surprise, but responded immediately.  “I cannot serve the Holy See!  I’m not even… a citizen…”

“Citizenship is naught more than a formality.  A sheet of paper we deem a necessity to remain within our walls, as you’ve done your life without one.”

“What are you saying, Brygym?” she asked him directly.

“I’m saying I told a couple people in the DOS about you, and your capability.  I’m saying that as an organization, we are, needless to say, starving for able bodies that are capable of handling the… finer points of our work.  We cannot teach what you possess, Fi’Teri.  You have it.  And, as such, we have a need for you.”

Fi’Teri looked at him in surprise.  “Wh...what?  You want me to  _ join _ you?” she said in disbelief.

Brygym nodded.  “Aye, to attempt to.  There is training involved.  It is fairly trying, but… given your capability, the chance would be  _ our _ honor to try.  We.. have also already moved to request Lyniastas to specialize in our division as well, for the similar reason.  I mean, none of us have actually ever  _ felled _ a demon to date, save Ser Jervaillen himself, and…” Brygym looked sullen once more.

“Say no more.  Should Lyniastas come, I will come.” Fi’Teri looked determined, down at him.  “I will do it, for him.”

Brygym sighed in relief.  Lyniastas groaned, his shut eyes winced in his sleep.  “M...Mrgh…”  Fi’Teri lept to attention, leaning her face into his, listening to his words.

“M...Me… shia…”

Brygym looked to Fi’Teri, who did not break her gaze upon his lips.  She committed the word to memory.

“I am here, Lyniastas.  I will listen to every word, no matter what.  You will always have me.”


	10. A Prelude to their Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lalieri and Brygym have a major breakthrough in their investigation. The elezen fails to satiate the will of the succubus, and puts them both in danger.

The young Miqo’te, who must have been in his mid-teens, lie in wait in a dense shrub, watching the large, chocobo-drawn cart approach, a light billow of dust behind it.  The wood carriage creaked and groaned as the wheels clamored forward, the light warking of chocobos adding to the orchestration of the journey.  Dawn would be upon him soon, and it was up to him to bring back something of value to provide his family.  The sun’s glow was looming over the Thanalan horizon.  Nearby, the gates of Ul’Dah could be seen in the distance behind the boy, he had not gone far from the city to take to hiding.  He had watched too many carts already pass without action – it was now or never.  He steeled his reserve, swallowing his fear, and prepared for his inevitable confrontation.

His long, red hair flowed freely in a warm breeze.  Yellow tips accented the ends of his shoulder-length locks, a messy mop upon his head, despite his hair being relatively straight.  His skin a darker hue accented his golden eyes, which appeared almost illuminated by the oncoming dawn.  He wore the most obvious of low-class garb – basic dirty linens akin to a common displaced Eorzean that piled upon the gates outside of Ul’Dah, seeking refuge.

Just as the cart was closest to him, he peered intently to gauge his best position to strike.  However, a looming shadow behind him caught his attention, causing him to second-guess his approach, putting him off-balance.  He fell to his side as the shadow flung past him without regard to his presence, striking the cart in full force, obliterating the wooden paneling on the side, causing the chocobos to screech as they were tossed to the side.  The boy crept backward, stunned by whatever creature might have caused the blow.  Following the blast and echoing sounds of splintering wood that rang across the Thavnarian landscape, there was a moment of stunned silence, and then the boy heard the choked struggle of a man behind the wreckage.  Behind the cart, fresh fruit bounced along the path.  The boy could not resist knowing he had to take a chance, he had to assess the situation.  If it was just a wild animal, he might do well to save the man, and perhaps get a reward, or… if he were dead, then he might just…

He shook his head.  The boy peered about his surroundings.  Save his makeshift bush hideaway, the land was as expected – just level dirt all around.  Whatever that was, it would find him out for sure.  He came as prepared as he knew how.  From his waist, he brandished a metal dagger, slowly rose to his feet, and approached the cart, one feeble step at a time.  His steps shaky, he swallowed his emotions for a second time in one minute, albeit for a very different reason now.  The deafening silence had consumed the area around him, as not even the wind or the local game seemed to be making noise after the disturbance.  The cart lie in shambles, a crumpled heap on the worn path.  The dust was nearly fully settled as the boy walked around the back of the cart, peering upon the other side.

He saw what appeared to be two bodies – one lying on the ground, a second seemingly upon him.  He drew his dagger upward and spoke meekly, his voice a cracked whisper.  “H...Hello?  S-Sir, are you alright..?”

He attempted to focus, taking one more nervous step forward.  Suddenly, the same shadow lunged for him at incredible speed.  He took one quick step backward in an attempt to evade, however, the attempt was in vain.  Whatever it was, it tackled him and brought him down effortlessly, with seemingly the same force as when it hit the cart.  He lost his breath as his back hit the ground with a loud grunt.  His eyes winced shut, but he quickly opened them to look up at his inevitable demise.

He was shocked.  She was… an Elezen woman?  He peered about her features.  She was rather defined, and it stood out, but… there was no look of malice on her face.  She looked concerned, almost upset, gazing down upon him.  He noted the strength of her grasp on his shoulders.  He knew he could not escape.  He looked upon her in horror, awaiting her judgement.

“No.” she spoke glumly.

He attempted to speak, but his breath still could not be found.

“I won’t do it.” She said, still staring directly into his eyes.  She paused before continuing.  “Because he’s but a boy!  Aren’t under-developed souls not even worthwhile to you?”

At this point, he was utterly confused, which only enhanced his fear.  He was frozen in place, unable to process what was transpiring.  Was she talking to herself?  She grunted as he made the thought.

“I won’t do it.  These dark peddlers deserve their fate enough, but not a homeless child.”  She scoffed.  “No, I’m not doing him a favor!  You are as awful as ever.” She shook her head in disgust.  He blinked furiously, still attempting to comprehend.

“Over here!  I heard a noise!” a voice boomed in the distance.  A sliver of sun pierced the horizon, illuminating the Elezen’s face clearly for a moment.  The boy took note of her slightly green eyes that radiated in the light.  She glanced down at him, her dark, flowing hair reaching a small, passing breeze.  She glanced over her shoulder at the body of the man she had mounted first, biting her lip, then back at the boy.

“I  _ know.   _ I  _ know  _ we’ve no time.  Hmph.  This will complicate things.”

“Gods, a cart!  On the path ahead!”

“Call the Flames!  We’ve another victim!”

The Elezen snarled, shifting, planting her feet in the ground and taking off with a leap back below the growing warm glow of dawn coming over Thanalan.  The boy, still frozen from fear and confusion, lie in the dirt.  The Miqo’te peered about, realizing he still had no place to run.  Not that he could, as his legs were still shaking from the encounter.  Tears fell from his eyes as he hugged his knees on the ground, his tail curling and embracing his torso.  He faced the hyur man, who was still staring blankly at him with grey eyes, mouth open, unmoving, the black ash around his head implanted in the dirt.  A rogue piece of fruit tumbled from the cart wreckage and bounced between them, coming to a still in a wheel impression left in the ground.

“Call support!  There’s a boy!  Seems to be a refugee!  And- oh Gods!  A body!  Inform the general!”

He felt the stomping of feet behind him from the gates of Ul’Dah.  No doubt the Immortal Flames had already been alerted to the incident.  No doubt he is bound for an awful day of questions.

He knew theft was not the way.  Father was wrong.

\---

In a large, quiet room of the Great Gubal Library, Lalieri and Brygym sat in dim candlelight on wooden chairs, a mess of tomes strewn about a large table.  Moments passed in silence, then minutes, as their eyes flew across text, line by line.  Lalieri’s book was open on the table, detailing the inner architecture of the library, attempting to decipher the intentions of the Sharlayans in building the twisted, deep corridors that lie below them.  She had been at understanding their motivations for days, increasingly frustrated she was not able to get any progress in creating a game plan in searching for what might have happened to Meshia in this grand place.  She sighed heavily, attempting to redouble her focus on the words in front of her.  They were entering their third week of research, with hardly a lead, while the rest of the DOS worked together in exploring the ruin for any sign of demons.  They had also little luck.

Brygym’s read was a bit more akin to their work.  He had been taking notes detailing the ancient process of sealing demons.  His messy penmanship could be seen on a notebook next to him on the table, in attempts to reference key phrases in future endeavors.  He had an aged book in his grasp - though large, it was seemingly small in his one hand.  The title read, “Suitable catalysts for demon imprisonment”.  When he finished with a particular portion, he rest the book on the table in reflection, pondering how what he had discovered connected to the rest.  He lifted the book once more, staring at the cover, before he broke the silence.  

“Though it is fairly descriptive on the process, it is obvious that even a book could be used as a means to seal a demon.”

Lalieri groaned, sighing and rolling her eyes.  “Do you mean to tell me, Brygym, that any book in this room could have been the cause to why we have demons in Eorzea taking lives recklessly?  We would need to quarantine the whole lot of this place again, and you know what will never happen.  We have nothing substantial to say it is so.”

Brygym raised a hand, as if he were not done.  “Aye, ‘tis true, alas... The process is not akin to any regular tome.  It would need special treatment and care over years to ensure the seal stays intact.”

Lalieri leaned back, looking up a moment before speaking.  “So, the Sharlayans would have taken particularly special care of these particular tomes if such a means was used.”

“Aye.  I’m able to confirm it myself here.  Not this text, but…” Brygym stood up, the chair creaking in release of his weight.  He peered about the table, and the mess of books left in piles.  He thumbed through spines on a particular pile.  “Ah!” he exclaimed, quickly tugging one out, a blue spine that read  _ The Sealing of the Six _ .

“This one was incredibly useful.  It spoke of six demons who were all vying for power over one another, utilizing whatever means necessary to get it done.  They had little concern for Eorzea, or dominance over aether… it seemed their struggle was only among themselves.  To gain power over one another only.  They were a threat to man, obviously, as this power struggle always led to casualties.  One particular thing caught my eye, near the end…”  Brygym thumbed through the pages, which fluttered between his fingers.

Lalieri interjected.  “Brygym, you are deep in a theory right now.”

“No, Lali, I swear it, I- ah!  Here.” Brygym rest the book on the table, pointing to a passage.  He read it aloud.

“ _ As with those who thirst for such power, these six demons were prone to suffering from their own vices.  Man is always able to conquer the trail of enduring their war, despite the incredible power that they might realize.  Once used against them, their power becomes their biggest struggle, and only after they destroy one another, the final remaining demon is normally able to be subdued with little effort.  Their consciousness lie dormant through generations until they gradually rise again in struggle with one another.” _

Brygym continued.  “ _ We’ve a duty to ensure that we cease this cycle.  As we have done in the past, we’ve been trusted upon once more to seal away the dark evil in this world.  We will be sealing them using the means that the Library has realized.  The Library will also be entrusted with their placement to ensure they are never read.” _

Brygym emphasized that last word again, looking at Lalieri.  “ _ Read, _ Lali.  That sat with me.  Why would someone be concerned with  _ reading _ a demon?  I took it as either a typo or a means they used to define possession, but…  _ read. _  They meant to seal these six demons in books and keep them in the library under special care.  That means…”

“They wouldn’t be on just any old bookshelf.”  Lalieri finished his statement, looking to the book on the table she had open.  “It is useless to map the place in its entirety.  We aim to know where these six books would have been sealed.  Even if they weren’t the  _ right _ demons, we still might prevent more of this… Brygym, this is…”

They looked at one another, a nervous smile almost on both of their faces.  Just as they were about to continue, their DOS linkpearl rang.  Brygym recognized the familiar echoing ring, it was a city-state reaching out to them.  He nodded to Lalieri, who answered the call.

“Yes?  This is the Immortal Flames?  Ul’Dah?  Go on.”

After a muffled reply, Lalieri grew anxious.  “ _ Two  _ disappearances and  _ one _ murder and now you think to call us knowing it was supernatural in nature!?  Your pride is as present as ever.” 

She sighed heavily.  “The body is consistent with our killing, and you have a boy in custody from the scene?  You have him still?  We are able to question him?  Excellent.”

Lalieri scoffed at another reply.  “Of  _ course _ I am sending the DOS!  Your description of the body matches our killer’s means!  I better have been your first call!  Hydaelyn have mercy on you when I find you next.  Expect Fi’Teri, a Miqo’te.  Should she need more backup, she will call me directly.”

She listened intently again, nodding.  Her expression became notably sullen.  “A...Aye.  You know these things are very close to me.  S...See you...”  She lowered her hand from her ear.

Brygym tilted his head, nodding slowly.  “He always had a way with upsetting you.”

Lalieri became red, flushed equally from being riled up from her conversation, and the realization that her emotions were on her sleeve.  “S...Send word to Fi’Teri now!  She is to go to Ul’Dah.  They seem to think this poor boy is a demon, but it’s obvious Meshia is no doubt at work again.”  She slumped back to her seat, burying her eyes in the text once more.  “I will continue the search for these six books with Tien and Lyniastas.  You continue to research these demons.”

Brygym shook his head with a stout smile, and walked from the room, placing a finger on his ear.   
  
“Fi’Teri?  We’ve an assignment for you.”


	11. The Demon's Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fi'Teri accompanies the child around Ul'Dah. Yet, are her eyes as quick as they need to be?

The day was bright in Ul’Dah, with hardly a cloud in the sky.  The immense heat was normal for the bustle of life below.  The flat cobblestone streets were rife with constant feet to and fro, today being a particular abusing day on the main drag on the Steps of Nald.  Between tall, sandstone buildings lie merchant carts, guilds, and most importantly, the housing of the Immortal Flames, the city’s guard.  Nearby, there were not one, but two grand entrances into the city, a sprawling expanse of the nearby Thanalan terrain viewed through the ornate stone arches.  The city’s amazing architecture was in full view from every angle - ornate stone design in the walkways, pillars and decorative additions to architecture above, calling it “The Crown Jewel” as some might made it a rightful analogy - it almost resembled a crown itself in its complexity, fit to be placed on royalty.  Many taller structures came to sharp points, only upon massive rounded domes, jutting out from the tallest towers.  Truly, extravagance was alive in the city, born from the hard work of the peddlers and trade central that it had become.  It was no doubt that Ul’Dah was the place to go for business, and as such, business was always booming.

From a nearby alleyway, tucked high beneath a roof outcrop on a small stony platform, Meshia camped, hardly distracted by the incredible amount of people haggling and talking aloud below.  She was fixated on the entrance to the Immortal Flames headquarters, awaiting her next move.  The men had taken the boy from earlier within, and she was determined to have another exchange with him.  It was difficult to keep track of everybody that went in and out, but he went in with an escort, and he’d be going out with one for sure.  The Immortal Flames’ distinct red and black tall jackets were easy to spot in a crowd of common cloth, so she was adamant in checking each one for the boy nearby.  She felt her grip waiver slightly, as the strength the demon in her provided began to weaken.  She groaned, doing her best to remain unnoticed.

_ “I told you this was a grave mistake.  There are no delicious souls should you not take the time to do the work as I’ve described.  I am starving for power, these men have done little to satiate my desire.  Not to mention - our work is best done under the cover of night, and here you are in the one place in this whole accursed city that provides shadow while the bright star is in the sky.” _

“You wanted death.  I’ve provided it for you as promised.”  Meshia stated.

_ “Oh, if only it were so easy.  These merchants were nothing to begin with.  Their souls are but scrap, swayed by the mere scent of coin.  Look at them below, rubbing their hands, turning their heads with disgust over the common man.  They’re not delectable.  They’re not savory.  They are hollow, empty vessels, what once was a man.  They’re nothing to you, or to me.  And now look at us.  Hiding in the shadows in the bright of day - what little is provided, mind you - awaiting this child to leave the hornet’s nest over there so we might tie up a loose end you left alive.” _

Meshia sighed.  “I am not akin to killing children.  I resist your will to do so.”

_ “You waste our time, even now.  What good is this child?” _

“I eventually always succumb to your will, as you are still my master for now.  We will do what must be done to minimize exposure.”

_ “We’ve had enough trouble with Lyniastas making your photo the poster-child of the realm.  Anyone literate could know you are a wanted woman, with the signage these major cities have with your photo on them.” _

“Lyniastas didn’t make that decision, I am sure.” Meshia said solemnly.

_ “He is no different than the rest of the DOS cretins.  He deserves the same fate you wish upon any of them.” _

“Hold your tongue, demon.  Lyniastas, he…”

_ “He is your lover no more, girl.  He is but an enemy like any other.  When we are done here, I expect you to provide my next meal, and it better be a worthy soul. One plump with life.  It has been far too long.” _

“Shh!  He’s there.  I see him.”

Sure enough, there was a single Immortal Flame man holding onto the shoulder of the boy, who fought every step under his grasp.  By the boy’s side, Meshia noticed, there was another face she clearly recognized, despite the impossibility of such.

Fi’Teri.  Instantly, she felt her face flush red, and she bore her teeth.  The Miqo’te gracefully stepped forward in front of the Immortal Flame with a hand forward, motioning them to stop.  She kneeled in front of the boy, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling.  She looked up at the soldier, conversing.  Eventually, the soldier let the boy go, and the continued to walk on through the Steps of Nald, to their left down the main stretch.

Meshia felt her blood boil.  “She’s… she’s alive too?  That… wretch…” her hands became fists as she felt her heart pump aggressively in her chest.

_ “Whoa, now.  Seems the lady has quite the past to make you this heated.  Would you mind elaborating?” _

“She’s… she’s the reason, that day, Lyniastas and I…” Meshia stood in a moment of respite, recalling her past, breathing heavily, a single tear streaming down her winced cheek.

_ “You will lose sight of the boy if you don’t pay attention.  Go, girl.”  _ The succubus said loudly.   _ “You can always recall your unimportant past later.  I care about putting this incident behind us so we might move on.” _

Meshia shook her head, focusing on Fi’Teri and the boy.  The Immortal Flame soldier bid them farewell, and they continued to make way through the mob of people.  Meshia swung from her perch to a slightly slanted rooftop below, gripping it with little issue.  She creeped under the heat of the sun, yet moving with finesse enough to remain in cover between the cityscapes’ arches and towers, fixating on Fi’Teri.

She could hardly believe she survived that day.  It was gift enough that Lyniastas did, but, she thought for certain there was no way they could have both survived.  After all, Bahamut’s attack claimed so many that day…

She swept her body between two rounded domes.  “We would have survived, had she not…”

_ “Please, spare me detail.  Catch the boy.” _

Fi’Teri turned right down on another main stretch of densely populated road, up an extremely wide flight of stairs, turning again towards an entrance with a large door.  Fi’Teri opened the door, motioning the boy enter before her.  He obeyed meekly, slowly stepping inside.  Fi’Teri walked in, releasing the door, as it swung behind her.  Just as it was about to close, a pair of Roegadyn men busted out of the same door, loudly laughing with jeers at one another.  One punched the other in the shoulder as they walked back into the flow of foot traffic.

Meshia caught an eye of an alley that led to the ground.  Quickly, she slid off the building she was on top of, grasping the edge with a single hand.  She lept to the other wall opposite the alleyway, gripping an open window.  She let go, both feet gracefully landing atop a tall wooden stump in the ground.  She kneeled, wrapping her legs around the pole, sliding, then placing both feet on the ground without so much as a sound.  The alley itself was vacant, save a beggar or two too concerned with those with deeper pockets to pay her mind.  She moved quickly to work herself into the flow long enough to work to the door, minimizing face time with the locals.  It appeared she went unnoticed.  As she walked through, she noted a small flyer pinned to a nearby board with her face on it, with the words:

_ “Wanted for Murder: Meshia Lorenys _

_ Under suspicion of murder _

_ Direct all reports to the Dravanian Occult Society immediately _

_ Per issue of Lalieri Pompoti, accepted by The Holy See of Ishgard” _

She grumbled, extending a hand and ripping the flyer from the board.  She pocketed it, for disposal later.  She approached the door that Fi’Teri had entered.

_ “One down, a million to go in this massive city.  You’re against the grain thinking that will make a difference.” _

“That was more for me personally than our cause, demon.  You’ve done well to slander my name.”

_ “I’ve done well to keep you alive.  I could have just feasted upon you right then and there when we met.” _

“Part of me wishes you still did.”

_ “I doubt there is any part of you that does not wish so.  Alas, such is the life of a slave, you will do as instructed until I am through.  I needed your body.  Your soul, as delectable as it might be, would only have been good for one meal.  Your body has brought me many more.  I know the value of investing in what matters most, like you.” _

“I am but a tool.”

_ “Do not mistake my intentions.  The day my forming is complete, my mercy will be to grant you the little time you deserve to escape.” _

“How kind of you.”

The succubus scoffed.   _ “Do not tempt me to forget this mercy, slave.  I am giving you a life of unbridled passion until that day comes.  I won’t soon forget how much you got off when we first met.” _

“I had no control.”

Laughter rang in her head.   _ “It would also appear you had no sexual outlet!  Which is fine - all the better for exploiting you when I need you most, for now.” _

Meshia shook her head, grabbing the large ring hinged on the door and pulling it open.  Inside, a dark bar atmosphere could be seen within.  The large space was round, with a raised outer ring for standing upon tall bar tops, and a lowered center down a few steps, where tables large and small were strewn about for dining.  Around the outer ring, various counters surrounded by patrons could be seen, as this establishment was also for the city to communicate basic services to aspiring adventurers for work.  Many eager youngbloods surrounded the outer, upper ring, counting coin, reviewing script, in preparation.  Below, the tables had all sorts, from rambunctious soldiers off-duty, to more quiet loners solemnly taking in the view.  Overall, the place housed an incredible range of people and personality, yet remaining dim and somber in its atmosphere all the same.  “The Quicksand,” Meshia said in a whisper.  “Local gathering place.  I’ve heard the food is alright…”

_ “We are not here to eat.  Find the boy.” _

Meshia nodded, peering about the place as she hugged the wall, hearing the door creak shut behind her.  Easily, she spotted them, taking a seat at a table nearby.  She fixated on Fi’Teri’s vibrant, blue eyes, as she conversed with the boy.  The very same eyes that looked down upon her that day, years ago…

_ “Ugh, focus, girl.  I’ve had enough of this distraction.”  _ Meshia’s eyes flashed a quick emerald green, and her body stood at full attention.  She sighed, looking back to the two at the table.   _ “Don’t make me assume control again.  It drains me still.  Especially after all that climbing and whatnot you had to do to keep out of view, let alone what transpired this morning… you are becoming quite reliant on my power.” _

Fi’Teri rose from her seat, raising one hand and extending one finger upward, as if motioning “one minute” to the boy.  She stepped away from the boy, heading toward the outer ring.  When she climbed the steps, she turned, directly toward Meshia, still clinging to the wall in a dark shadow.  She felt her blood pressure rise once more as Fi’Teri approached, seemingly unaware of Meshia.  The elezen looked down, noting her hand was a shaking fist, her knuckles white from the grip.

“We could have escaped, had she not-” Meshia began.  Fi’Teri turned to a counter a few yalms from Meshia, addressing the barkeep to place an order, a beaming smile on her face.  Her black tail swayed freely behind her, engaged in chasing a passing breeze.  Meshia took one step forward from the shadows, her face aglow in the dim light around the room.  Her eyes a hint of red beyond their grey facade.

_ “Girl, you’re allowing the rage to take over.  You need to-” _

“I… I fell.  The bridge collapsed.  Lyniastas attempted to reach me, but…” she took another step forward, whispering.

“Above, the shrill roar of Bahamut rang through the land.  It tore through everything.  No one was prepared for such wanton destruction.  Mountains moved.  Forests destroyed.”  Her voice quivered as her eyes flared a deeper red.

“We were supposed to be far into the cover of the shroud by nightfall.  We were just crossing over a bridge in the North Shroud when we heard the noise.  We saw the feared beast on the horizon.  Then she… Fi’Teri, she…” Meshia closed in on Fi’Teri with increasing stride, she continued to fixate on her, a deep red now in her eyes.

_ “The boy, slave.” _

“She followed us.  She found us.  She was concerned over him.  She… she loved him.  She wanted to take him away from me, I…” she attempted to remember clearly.  “I only remember hitting my head, falling, I… I watched the flare consume the bridge, consume them, I thought…” she continued to think hard.  “She said... she said something, I can’t… remember...”

_ “The boy!  Look up, you little-!”  _ Meshia’s eyes flashed a faint green, dispelling the deep, luminous red.  She blinked quickly, shaking her head, glancing back at the table.

The boy was gone.  She leapt back into the cover of shadow, away from Fi’Teri.  Fi’Teri noticed a sudden movement, glancing toward Meshia, but missing her by barely a second.  She shrugged, glancing back at the table as well.  She gasped, immediately glancing about the room like Meshia.

Meshia was able to locate him first, having the slight time advantage.  He was quickly making for the door opposing where they all entered.  He moved quickly, not looking back, almost a near full sprint.  Nearby patrons gruffed as he sped by, but no one berated him loudly, allowing him to slip through.

Fi’Teri was still at a loss.  “Vina’ita?”  She peered around on her tiptoes, a concerned expression below her brow.  Meshia tactfully kept to the outer ring, sliding between patrons under the cover of darkness.  Fi’Teri began to walk toward the lower ring again, still peering about.  “Vina’ita, where did you go?” she said loudly.

Suddenly, someone yelped in pain near the door.  The clamour of a dropped plate shattering hit the stone, accompanied by the light  _ slosh _ of a spill.  Fi’Teri peered over, her ears twitching, at the noise.  There, the boy lie groaning just at the top of the stars to the upper ring, a waitress looking down upon him, her hands on her hips, ready to let him have it.  Meshia shuffled back into shadow, observing while moving slower toward him, her eyes fixated on him.  Fi’Teri glanced angrily at him, stomping in his direction.  He quickly rose, eyeing Fi’Teri, and scrambled to his feet, making for the door again.  It opened as more patrons entered the establishment, which he used as an opportunity to slip out with agility.  Fi’Teri was in close tow behind, and Meshia behind her, lurking.

“Vina’ita!   _ VINA’ITA!” _ Fi’Teri gave chase back onto the Steps of Nald.  Meshia slipped by past the door behind Fi’Teri, clinging to the wall, noting the boy’s position once more before making an impressive leap to a nearby window, then a deck outcrop, then a rooftop in a short, swift climb.  She peered again, noting the boy turning toward the Steps of Thal, the major inner alleyways of Ul’Dah.  Smirking, Meshia kept to rooftops and rafters again in chase of the boy.

Fi’Teri stood, peering in the crowd at a loss, shrugging and sighing heavily at losing track of him.  She groaned in defeat, looking up at the bright sky.

“He told me of his father, Kit’il, and of Copperbell Mines for their coming of age ceremony.  Perhaps I can follow the lead there.” she sighed.  “I will ask around the mines to see if anyone knows of Kit’il, I guess.”

She snapped at attention, placing a finger on her ear to activate her linkpearl.  “Aye, Fi’Teri here.”

“But-!” she exclaimed after a pause.

“I have to see this through, Lalieri.  I just have a bad feeling…” she looked down solemnly.

She sighed.  “Fine.  Two days.  Then I will return to Gubal to help you research these six demons.  Brygym is more fit for research anyway, I don’t know why-”

She nodded.  “Alright, alright!  I’m… I understand.”


	12. The Demon's Army: Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meshia continues her pursuit of the boy. The succubus happens upon information that changes her perspective of that chase.

Meshia continued her pursuit of the child.  His pace had not lightened, despite him believing he was being followed by Fi’Teri, not the elezen.  He had moved into the excessively busy folds of the Steps of Thal, working through The Gold Court.  Meshia effortlessly weaved through the tight crowds with her heightened agility, an advantage she had over the boy’s clumsy movements.  She would bob and tuck her face into the raised collar of her familiar open jacket, doing what she might to obfuscate her appearance to any that might take note of her features.

The Gold Court had its display in usual splendor - unlike the Steps of Nald being a main outdoor curved street, the Steps of Thal were indoors, circular rooms beneath sprawling, ornate domes above, some multi-level.  The Gold Court in particular had an impressive fountain in the center of it’s circular domed enclosure.  In a second story above, the chamber of rule lie.  The boy cut left, moving toward the Gate of Thal, back outdoors.  Meshia continued to work her way through patron, beggar, and merchant alike, keeping him within sight, but also being sure to remain in the cover of the crowd as best as possible to not be seen.  He was still in a hurry, but seemingly more confident Fi’Teri was not at his heels, as he had not seen her.  Still, every time he peered back, his tail would furrow about, implying he was in rapid thought.

_ “This child is becoming a nuisance.  Just end him here on the street and be done with it.” _

“Have you forgotten I cannot be well-seen anywhere I go?  Lest you wish for your hunt to end prematurely.”

_ “I challenge any man to cross you and try.  Staying out of sight is a benefit for you, not for me.  Your body will be your own again, someday.  You will have… a reputation of your own to deal with then, not I.  Perhaps, should you serve a worthy vassal, I might spare you as my influence inevitably spreads this cycle…” _

“Cycle?”

The succubus offered no answer.  The made down a flight of stairs.  Meshia continued to weave in and out of crowds, sometimes becoming a bit distracted for a moment on any prying eyes that might have spotted her.  She would quickly turn away, and continue to move forward with unnatural swiftness in the traffic.  There was an incredible amount of noise in the enclosed chamber of Thal, but it did naught to sway the conviction of the elezen.

“Your time here is limited?”

_ “You have no capacity to for me to deign my purpose.  All you need to know is I need souls, I need power, and I need it as soon as possible.” _

“Surely the gift of power is not all you seek, then.  It is a means to an end.  What is the end?”

_ “You ask for detail that is not yours to know.” _

“How will I know you are done with me, then?”

_ “Hush, girl.  He makes for a dark alley  Watch it.” _

They had moved outside, one street away from the Gate of Thal itself.  Back outdoors, the crowd dissipated a bit, more than likely from the wider roads and the more spread-out merchants.  Meshia took cover behind a stack of unattended, full sacks, eyeing his every move.  As she kneeled, she had to adjust to ensure the book tethered to her hip did not get pressed beneath her legs.  He peered left and right one final time for confirmation, bolting again into the alley.

_ “Rgh… he surely does not make this easy.” _

Meshia lept over the sacks and darted toward the alley.  She leaned against the corner, glancing inside the dark space between the two buildings.  There was one closed wooden door at the end of a short corridor, shut.  The walls of the alley were tall and narrow, but with no windows or means to climb.  The alley itself was clear of debris or beggars, implying often use.  Meshia did not budge, sighing.

_ “My survival requires the power you obtain on my behalf.  That is all I will tell you.  Now, go.” _

Meshia shook her head.

_ “You defy me, girl?” _

“I deserve to know.”

_ “You don’t deserve any of the freedoms I have already afforded you to act or think independently, yet here we are.  Do not make me second-guess my mercy.  There are those like me not so kind.” _

Meshia sighed.  She walked through the alley with a few strides, the noise from the outer street becoming a muffled whisper as she walked deeper in.  At the door, she noted it’s rounded top, and thick wooden shutter design.  It had a traditional turn-knob.  Fortunately, it clicked with a turn from her hand, and she creaked it open with care, attempting to minimize her presence.  However, just as she was opening the door enough to peer within, the figure of a man walked in front of the sliver of view, glaring at her.

“Hoy!  What’ve we got ‘ere!?” a growling voice bellowed within.  Reacting quickly, Meshia thrust her weight into the door, pushing the figure within, who responded with a grunting “oomph!” as they stumbled backward.  She leapt inside, grabbing the man by his sleeves, and pulling him to the ground, mounting him, pressing her knees against his sides.  She glared down at him, taking one hand, gripping his face at the mouth, clutching it tightly, minimizing the noise and struggle.  They were in a small chamber, hardly big enough for the both of them alone, which led to a spiral stair leading downward.  The room was lit decently via lights on the wall in iron cages.  She looked down at the man, a built Hyur of darker skin, and brown, furious eyes, glaring at her.  He brought an arm up to strike Meshia in the face with his fist.  She brought up her other hand to meet his fist with her palm, stopping his effort without her palm even budging an inch.  He struggled mightily, kicking his feet, attempting to worm his way from between her thighs.  She tightened her thighs, pressing against him so hard, she could feel his breath wheezing from his lungs out of the meager space between her fingers.  Her hand shook a bit as she gripped his fist until she felt the grinding and crushing of bone between her powerful digits.  His expression moved from anger to worry as he struggled to speak beneath her hand with muffled “mmf!  Oommmff!” comments.  His protests went unheard as she leaned into his gaze until their faces were inches apart.  Quietly, she sang her demonic verse, a tantalizing, sweet whisper.  His eyes hazed into a stone grey quickly, hers becoming a more intense, bright green.  His raised arm slowly drooped, and his feet started to hang toward the floor instead of shaking to and fro in struggle like before.  Within a few moments, he lie still, staring into nothingness.

_ “Another wasted soul.  The incantation does nothing for me unless they are aroused, girl.  You are wasting the power.” _

“I refuse to take a life by my own hands.  I aim to only ever make this about your means.”

The succubus scoffed into a light chuckle.   _ “You believe this to be your salvation?  ‘Tis you who still speaks the words, girl.  Let’s not forget the frailty of man’s sway - they judge based solely on what they might prove in sight, in feeble reason.  Try telling any common man who judges you that you’re possessed and forced to do my will.  You’d see nothing but a dark room and chains for the remainder of your days.” _

Meshia stood, releasing the man’s disfigured hand as it fell limp to the stone slab floor.  “Let’s go farther in,” she muttered.  She took to the spiraling staircase downward into the unknown.  The lighting stayed bright enough as she descended, but her other senses remained on high alert as well.  Each tiptoeing step brought her deeper into whatever might lie beneath.  As she turned, beginning to question the true nature of the structure, the spiral ended to a long beige stone hallway, with door lining both walls, five on each side.  As she stepped out from the stairs, she realized there was another set of hallways to the left and right, but shorter, with two doors on the same side as the staircase she had descended.  The floorplan was in a T shape.  The end of the main hallway had a large set of double doors, which were shut.  Meshia immediately heard voices coming from the first door on the left, which was cracked open.  She quickly moved toward the door, peering inside.  She prayed this encounter would not be like the first.

Within, she could see the Miqo’te boy, seated in a small brown wooden stool, peering at someone else within.  When Meshia attempted to lean to see them, the person was beyond the meager sliver of view the cracked door provided.  She sighed as their conversation continued.

“The Immortal Flames!  That’s where you were?  My son, I was worried sick!  I realize I’ve been working a great deal lately, I’ve a customer with high demand, and…”

“D...Dad, I just… I wanted to help, I know we have struggled for food for everyone lately, and they’ve been disappearing.  I feared the worst, I…”

There was a pause.  “You were… just trying to help.  What did you tell them?”

The child continued.  “I just said I’m a part of a big family.  We take care of one another.”

“Is that all you’ve said?”

“W..Well, I said lately, that you were away, at the mines, bec-”

“You told the Immortal Flames that I go to the mines?” the man’s voice rose significantly.  Meshia saw the child shuffle uncomfortably in his chair.

“I… I just thought maybe it was time we seek help-”

“Oh, dear.  My child, my dear, sweet Vina’ita…”

“L-Listen, father.  I know what we do to take care of one another isn’t… always legal.  I know you take it upon yourself to put your own name at odds, just to keep our large family happy, I… that’s why I hid near where the carts have been getting ransacked, I tried to bring some food home to help you...”

A heavy sigh came from inside the chamber.  “I understand, Vina’ita.  I’ve made my decision to care for you all until you are of age.  It is my intent to prepare you all for life.  However, it would appear you’ve grown enough for me to release you as well…”

“F-Father!  No!  I’ll be good!  I...I know you said to never interact with the Immortal Flames, but, they brought the Miqo’te woman, and she helped me...”

“Another Immortal Flame?”

“N-No, father.  Someone from the DOS.  Like on those boxes you send away. You told me you have a relationship with them, no?  I figured she would know of you, but… she didn’t…”

A chair creaked out of view, and a slam echoed through the hall.  “Vina’ita!  You-!” the man hastened his tone once more.  His voice shook the boy’s resolve.  “Do… Do you have any idea what you’ve done to your family!?  Now… Now, I…” Meshia could hear sobs forming from the boy, but also the other person inside the room.  A piece of furniture could be heard scuffing across the stone floor, and steps approached the boy.  He looked up as the figure approached with uncertainty.  A hand extended from out of view, gently caressing along the boy’s cheek, under his chin.  There was a heavy sigh.  Another hand came out, resting on the boy’s shoulder.

“I must graduate you early.  It must be done.  I hope you understand.  I must do what is necessary to save your brothers and sisters.  We cannot afford to be found now.  You have put us all at risk.  I cannot have you here anymore, Vina’ita.”

The boy looked down, scared, but slowly nodding.  “F...Father, I… I didn’t want to hurt the family… please…”

“Nor do I.  I have created this safe haven for you all.  But now.. I must protect it.” the hands gripped the boys’ neck, pressing vigorously.

_ “Well, good.  Looks like this guy is going to do our work for us.  He sounds like a tasty, conflicted soul.” _

The boy gagged, placing his hands on the ones around his next, kicking and struggling to gasp for a single breath that did not come.  His eyes welled up as he looked to the person beyond the door opening with fear and betrayal.  Slowly, his eyes shut, and his mouth rested as he passed out.  The hands released their grip, and wrapped around the boy, hoisting him as the figure made for the door.  Meshia glanced about quickly, darting back towards the stars, taking cover at the cross of the hallway.  A Miqo’te man emerged from the room, feathered shorter brown hair, brown eyes, brown, spotted black tail.  His garb was rather official - a tight dark green shirt which buttoned on the side, and pants to match.  He nervously looked about before making for the large double doors at the end of the hall.  Meshia took the opportunity with his back facing her to make a graceful sprint to the office to get closer, as the door remained open.

She took cover, glancing inside the room.  It was a standard office, not much to note save little things here and there.  Trinkets of odd origin, maps of areas, documents… she knew none of it would be sensible to her.  She looked back to the man as he fumbled at his side for a key, which he placed inside of a lock and turned with a rumbling  _ CLICK _ .  He swung open the door into what appeared to be a dark chamber, and entered.  Meshia bolted, watching the door slowly creak shut behind him, attempting to catch up.  She was able to fit her arm into the opening before it latched.  Quickly, she slid in, attempting to make as little an impact on the door’s movement as possible.  As she did, her breasts got stuck and cracked the door slightly more ajar.  She winced.

_ “Get used to those things already.” _ the succubus commented.

Meshia worked through the door and it slowly latched shut behind her.  She quickly eyed her surroundings.  She was now in a cave - still fairly well lit, but a rough path extended into the cave in darkness.  She stood on a sort of dock, as nearby a covered wagon with two bright yellow chocobos lie in wait for cargo.  There was a drop from her platform to the cave’s uneven floor below, like a pier.  The Miqo’te man still had his back to Meshia, placing the boy into the cart.

“A shame I had to send him so soon,” the man muttered.  “The buyer will not pay as much due to his age.  But, he’s become too much of a risk.  Took to being my boy so well, perhaps I could have even kept him and let him know that I… I am forced to…” the man sighed.

_ “He must be alone.  Quickly!  Let us finally dine!”  _ Meshia shut her eyes a moment.  She knew this would be the best opportunity.

“What of the children…?”

_ “Hells, girl, need I spell it out?  Clearly, he’s taking care of youth, but it looks as though he’s shipping them off for some sort of profit.  I am practically salivating over his remorse.  Go!”  _ Meshia felt her chest pound and lurch forward.

“Yes, master.”  Meshia leapt into action.  Her steps alerted the man, who turned.

“Who’s there!?” he barely gasped out before she lunged at him, tackling him off of the small stone pier, to the uneven rough stone of the cave beneath.  She was able to secure the landing on top of him.  They landed with an audible thump echoing into the cave’s dark recesses.  He gazed up at her, bewildered by her presence.  “H-How did you!?” he sputtered while the elezen sat up upon him.

Meshia placed a single finger over her lips, her other hand gently resting open on his chest.  She slowly shifted her weight between her legs, causing a slight grinding motion on top of his hips.  She leaned down, resting her forehead on his, their noses touching, her hand from her lips now gently caressing his hair.  She continued the soft, swaying back and forth motion.

“N-Ngh!  Wh...Why are y-you…” he sighed heavily, his hands initially placed on her sides to struggle, but he was unable to resist.  She smirked, giggling lightly, taking her hand from his chest and reaching behind her, lightly caressing the bulge that had formed in his pants.  She licked her lips delicately gripping the fabric and the new presence beneath.  He sighed rhythmically, increasing his breaths to a pant.  “You’re…”

“Silence.  Take what is yours, darling…” Meshia pressed her breasts against his chest, slowly draping them down as she moved her body down his, tracing a single finger down above her head, until her face was just above the bulge.  She smirked again, bringing her teeth to the seam of his pant, tugging the button to the side, her hands sliding down his thighs, tugging the fabric of his pants with them.  The seam gave, and they slid with little effort, aided in part by his slight lift with his hips, permitting her entry.  His manhood sprung out from beneath, nearly making contact with her face.  He groaned audibly at the release as his large girth throbbed in anticipation for what was next.

“I… ‘unno how you… b-but…” he had already lost focus.

_ “Hells, you’ve become such a slut.  I love it.  Then again, it seems this guy has had quite the lack of intimate attention lately.  Who lets a complete strange just go down on them?  Someone desperate, that’s what.  Man truly never changes.”  _ The succubus scoffed.  Meshia did not cease.  She took his shaft into her hand and immediately plunged his length into her mouth, gently caressing his shape with her tongue as she felt him fill her up.  As she continued to take in more and more of his length, she felt the shaking throbs of his excitement pressing against her cheeks and the tip of her throat.  She moved the hand below to cup his lumped sack, applied a slight suction with her mouth, and slid the shaft from inside her hot mouth, slobbering with her tongue to wet the entire, thick member.  As she rose, her hand came up to stroke lightly, allowing the wetness to be applied top to bottom.

She rose to the tip, but instead of letting go, she kept the tip between her lips, flicking her tongue against the bottom side.  His tail flailed about beneath him, and his ears twitched with intensity.  His light moans quickly escalated to loud affirmations of pleasure.  His body twitched with every lick.  She slid the length into the folds of her throat with an increasing rhythm.  As she went down, she tilted her head down to force his tip against her throat to increase his pleasure.  She furthered her act by tugging at his purse below as her head continued to thrust into him.

His body tensed up after a few more thrusts.  His hands gripped the back of her head and pushed her into him, thrusting his member deeper into her than she knew capable.  She opened her eyes wide, feeling the throb of the thick manhood blocking her airway hasten.  He squealed in delight.

_ “Is he…?  Oh hells, you need to recite the incantation!  What are you doing!?  You’re only supposed to be a slut until the end!  You only have one mouth, you-!” _

Meshia understood, yet the force of his arms pressed against her head with intense force, putting her in an awkward position.  She did all she felt she had left, and bit into him with great force.  He screamed, pulling her head from his length, and she swiftly lunged up, on hand and knee above him, and recited the demonic incantation.  He immediately responded as she finished the words.

“Th-that language!  You’re a demon-!?” Meshia heard him speak as her vision faded.

\---

Meshia peered about the clouded, empty space for the first time in a while, the inner soul of the Miqo’te man.  The space was similar to others, a hazy unending distance that extended into a grey, a solid floor… she stood, naked, staring at the man before her.

He lie on the floor on his side, hugging his knees, facing away from her, not making a sound.  She walked toward him after a moment of caution, remembering when last time she had to do this with a man, he nearly killed her.  She peered around him, taking short, cautious steps forward.  Yet still, he didn’t move.  As she was but a yalm away, she could hear his whispers.

“C...Coming for me… cannot… resist the coin…”

She realized in his tone how his fear was what consumed him.

_ “This is a place of true emotion.  He is truly as sedated as it gets.”  _ Meshia turned, noting a shadow nearby.

“Is that… you?” she asked the succubus.

_ “Come no closer, girl.  So help me.”  _ the voice echoed.  Meshia shrugged.

“He… He wanted them, he… he knew I was in need of coin, he…”

“He who?” Meshia asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.  He squirmed away, wincing at her touch.

“The large horned man.  He…”

“An Au’Ra?”

The man shook his head unevenly, shaking more vigorously.  “The demon man.”

_ “I’ll have you choose you next words carefully, you little heathen.  Did you say a demon man?” _

He just spoke, not acknowledging the succubus.  “I didn’t want to give my children away.  But to feed the mouths of those still coming in, to continue to feed the mouths of those prepared to face the world on their own, I… I had no choice, he offered so much, I… I found myself trapped in this lie…”

_ “Back to the demon man.” _

“He only knew an expression of sheer terror.  Blood red eyes.  Blood red eyes.  Blood… red…”

_ “Is man this ineffective at speaking?  More.” _

“Phyg… Phyglithe.”

Meshia blinked at the word.  From behind, the succubus’ voice boomed in the mist around them.   _ “You need to choose your next response with utmost care.  Did you say you were selling off your precious oldest children to a demon man named Phyglithe for coin in order to support the care of more younger children?”   _ Meshia noticed she took an immense care in the issue, more than usual.

The man nodded meekly, breaking into sobs.  His tail curled over his body.  “After one time, I told him to stop, that I couldn’t bear the… I… he beat me, subdued me, brought his men to oversee the ordeal… the gil continued to come, yet… the demands grew…”

The succubus continued,  _ “This is… do you realize what you have done!?  Phyglithe is- oh hells!  How many children have you sent!?” _

“I…”

_ “How many!?” _

“It’s been… too many… many shipments…”

The succubus screeched enough to make Meshia cover her ears.  The man screamed in response.

“Please, take me demon.  Kill this man unworthy of… any life… save who’s left… I…”

_ “I will only save those which prevent that cur Phyglithe from gaining any more strength himself.  Finish this, girl.” _

Meshia nodded in obedience.  She placed her hands upon his listless body once more as his form descended into a bright green aether, collecting and dissipating into her palms, until he was no more.  She remained in silence a moment.

“How many more of you are there out there?”

_ “These are questions that matter not to your purpose.” _

\---

Meshia inhaled sharply, as if coming out of water from an extended trip beneath a wave, though she was lying on her side.  She blinked a few times, rubbing her eyes, shuffling to a sitting position.

“N...Ngh…” she groaned, taking in her surroundings. The cave was much the same, save the corpse that now lie at her side.  The Miqo’te was still fully erect, a drizzle of semen pulsing from the tip of his exposed manhood slowly pooling on his stomach.  His eyes were wide open and a familiar grey, also familiar was the ash halo around his head.

_ “It’s about time.  You need to move.  There are voices nearby.  The convoy must be moving soon.” _

“And us with it, I assume.”

_ “Of course.  We are seeing this until the end.  If any of what he said is true, we’ve a duty to eliminate this threat.” _

“Threat to whom, I wonder?” Meshia sighed, picking up the body to move it from view.  The voices were coming down the hallway, nearing the door.  She flung the body beneath the pier-like upper level they stood on before, into the dark.

_ “Not a common thing I say, but a threat to us both.” _

For once, Meshia seemed surprised to hear a real answer.  “If this is so, I cannot wait to see why you would feel such a thing.” She moved towards the convoy. The voices grew louder.

_ “Why is not for you to know.” _

The sound of a key fumbling in the lock echoed in the cave opening.  Meshia slid beneath the cart and climbed into a small recess under the cabin, between the axles.

“I feel in time you will be unable to mask your intentions beyond gaining power.”

_ “Ruses are my very forte.  You insult me assuming my hand is short.” _

The men had a jest among them, walking to the cart and took seats in the front, near the chocobos.  With a crack of leather, the birds warked and began to move into the darkness of the cave.  The men appeared to bring lanterns with them, as a dim glow seemed to follow them as they travelled.  After a bit of slow maneuvering, Meshia noted they were not only outdoors, in the dark, but in Thanalan.

_ “Goodness, they are sneaky, moving children to the mines in the cover of night.  The dark tidings of this just excite me in ways I didn’t realize.” _

“And now, we are right back to disagreement.”

_ “The great balance we have found.” _

“The great disaster you’ve allowed me to descend into.”

_ “These things are also a matter of perspective.” _


	13. The Demon's Army Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The DOS reveals the extent of their work cut out for them. Fi'Teri's life might hang in the balance.

Meanwhile, in the Great Gubal Library, via linkpearl…

“Lyniastas, report.”

“Aye, Lalieri.  I am rounding the corner now.  I will keep you updated.  No need to continue to pester me.”

“You make me worry.  We know not what is down there, yet you still insist on saying nothing.  For all I know, you’re dead.”

“Is  _ that _ the worst that could happen?  If so, it’s no wonder my nerves are calm.”

“Lyniastas!  Don’t you ever say that to me again!” the harsh whisper of Fi’Teri interrupted.

“Fi’Teri, please, he means it in jest,” Brygym also interjected.

“But-!”

“Fi, be at ease.  I’m not going anywhere.  It takes more than a few books to scare me.”

“Lyniastas!  People have died in there!”

“Died of boredom, by the way of it.”

“Lyniastas, the estimated area of the shrine should be not far from where you are.  Has it opened into a large space yet?”

“Aye, ‘tis no wonder I don’t speak.  All this chatter breaks my concentration.  Lalieri, I will let you know when I might find what you describe, the domed structure.”

Lalieri sighed.  “Indeed, Lyniastas.”

Lalieri released her hand on her ear, slowly looking down to the text before her.  Lining the wall to her side was a large paper with a crudely drawn map of what she believed would lead to one of the six shrines they had been researching.  Brygym sat on an ornate couch by a fireplace, which was lit, his eyes scanning the ancient tomes, line by line.  Books lie scattered across the room, evidence of a frenzied research that was taking place even now.  Lalieri looked to the doorframe of the room, where Tien stood, arms folded, a stern expression on his face.  He felt her eyes upon him after a few moments.

“You could have sent  _ me, _ you know,” he muttered, looking into the expanse beyond the room.  Tall bookshelves curved and twisted as far as the eye could see, extending into darkness.  His yellow eyes gazing into the nothingness.

“You are right, I  _ could _ have, just as I  _ could _ have you reading Sharlayan text beside Brygym.  Instead, I ensure our safety with your watch.  Do you wish for a new task?”

Tien sighed, rolling his eyes.  “No, darling, I am simply eager to be out there on the path of unbridled discovery.  In danger of being caught by the unlucky beast that might taste my blade.”

“How is it, you came to us again?  You  _ did _ pass our mental aptitude exam, right?  Brygym?”

The Roegadyn chuckled from across the room, facing the fire, away from the two.  “Aye, he’s the mind of a steel trap, that one.  Just wasting it with his youthful arrogance.”

Tien’s cheeks flushed.  “B-Brygym, why-!”

“Oh, hush, lad.  Lalieri, I think… hmm…” Brygym leaned in on a particular passage in a large book he had in his hands.  On the cover,  _ The Six and the Cycle _ could be seen in faded ink.  Brygym was not far into it.  He stood, reading aloud.

_ “It is with such that, with what little we can find, we must draw conjecture from what the Mhachi have brought upon man, unfinished ties of research from the Age of Enlightenment.  Just as the Allagans before them, we can believe that in the end, they were not able to completely contain the threat.  It is with great regret that I must pen myself - there is unchained voidsent in this world - demons, as many might believe - and they come with an increasingly insatiable appetite for man.” _

Tien gazed out into the darkness again, with heightened senses.  Lalieri looked to Brygym.

“Well?  Go on.” She said.

He nodded.   _ “Like the ebb and flow of astral and umbral eras, akin to the impact these periods of time have on the ebb and flow of aether, doth these creatures follow a similar suit.  The Mhachi did well to indulge themselves to drink in the knowledge of the void, all in the comfort of their forsaken Nullstone.  How foolish!  To prosper and relish in power only to eventually require the need to take it all away.  Alas, the twelve circles be damned that they reside in, they are not natural inhabitants of Eorzea, and as such, they must be extinguished.” _

“This sounds like prattle to me.” Lalieri sighed.

“I am not done,” Brygym said.  “I… well, it needed a bit of a preface.” He scratched his head.

Brygym continued.   _ “Many learned Sharlayans who dabble in dark magicks firsthand will know of the tale of the six.  Bloodthirsty voidsent who operate in cycles, arising from the depths of Eorzea herself to wreck havoc among the realm.  They appear to be limited in their capacity when they first awaken - only gaining strength when feeding off of the suffering of man, drawing out their aether to consume.  The more they are able to claim, the stronger they become, until an inevitable clash between them ensues.  The casualties have the capability of being devastating.” _

“The six…” Tien pondered.  “So, when Ser Jervaillen…?”

“Keep going, Brygym.”  Lalieri interrupted.

Brygym continued to pace about the room.   _ “Throughout history, there appears to be unproven aetheric events that caused casualties - cities suddenly disappearing, rulers going mad with power, going to war with one another, even Mhachi scholars themselves unable to contain an unreal power that bursts forth within them - though these may be isolated incidents, there are names that can be pieced together throughout this history that continue to rise as the chaos does.  Allagan, Mhachi, even in our realm today.  The voidsent we are to contain are nothing if not boastful - it appears they take pride in writing themselves into the history of Eorzea, their presence recurring to be associated with the destruction they cause.  They are as much a part of our past as any other at this rate, having survived a minimum of four reported astral and umbral cycles at this time.  We continue to research more in attempts to see just how far back their war goes.” _

_ “As I plan to complete this tome, we have successfully identified six voidsent who inhabit Eorzea, coming to life together in cycles in competition with one another to gain power.  I know this, for we have sealed them all within the depths of our incredible library, in hopes that they might never cross man again.  Their shrines are seals in themselves - we have used what we learned from research on the Nullstone to implement a similar containment system - where the Nullstone will send a voidsent back to the realm they belong to, our seal functions to merely contain their consciousness in a way where it cannot escape unless perturbed.  Even then, unless great force comes to the structure itself, the voidsent will never be permitted escape.” _

\---

Lyniastas placed his finger on his ear, but decided against opening his mouth.  He slowly lowered his hand, his mouth slightly agape, gazing upon the structure before him.  A massive entryway was blasted open by an unfathomable force.  He stood upon a crushed door made of solid, slick, polished stone, broken apart from an impact of sorts.  Splintered wood from a massive beam lie cluttered about him.  The dome above the enclosure had a gaping hole, which shed a beam of light to the chamber within.

He had found one of the sealing rooms.

\---

_ “There is an incredible and imminent danger to anyone who even comes near the chamber.  The voidsent in question are not a force to be trifled with - they are cunning, they are powerful, but most of all, they seek only the destruction of one another - to an end we cannot yet justify.  Their reach for power becomes an insatiable journey.  They will gather as much aether directly from man as possible enough to overpower the others.  Unfortunately, what history never writes us is how these things resolve - it appears that eventually, they are stopped, or finally overcome, and take recess again, until enough time has passed for another cycle.  Another sparring match between them all to decide who is strongest.  Eorzea the battleground, man their tools.” _

\---

Lyniastas, aware of the importance of the structure hearing Brygym speak, peered within.  The faint glow protruding from the beam of light showed the room to be the least bit threatening.  A couple bookshelves pressed against a wall, the side opposite the room slightly elevated with a podium.  Paper and tomes lie scattered about the place as well.  Well-worn candles were unevenly spread throughout.  He shrugged, taking a confident step inside.

\---

_“These voidsent, we have done what we might to predict their behavior.  Might we remain one step ahead of their calling to blood-lust, we then might serve to minimize any casualty altogether.  In their most basic of forms, akin to when they are first awoken, they are their weakest.  Should we be able to contain this state, we would easily contain the threat.  Once they are allowed passage to our world, they will feast and feast until their food supply of people collides, then they vie for one another’s remaining territory.  They always begin with the first soul they possess, but always remain in that body until their task is complete.  If they are defeated by a fellow voidsent, their presence will dissipate until coming to form again in their next cycle.  In containing them as we have, we have prevented the perpetuation of that cycle.”_

\---

Lyniastas knelled down, eyeing one of the torn books upon the floor.  As he opened it, a bright green aether spurted out like a bolt, tingling his digits, causing him to drop the book with a gasping “Augh!”.  The green energy flung itself to and fro through the room, leaving a glow that revealed the whole space before eventually slowing to a halt.

_ “Well, despite how, at least the room is lit.”  _ He thought.

He shook his hands from the shocking touch.  He stood, walking toward the altar, gazing upon the center.  Two bookends, one tilted to the side, with no book in the middle.  The bookends themselves seemed only slightly moved.  Whatever book was here, it was gone.  He peered about the room one more time before deducing.

This is where the demon was sealed.  One of them roamed free.  Whatever book once lie here, keeping the being sealed, was gone.

\---

_ “The six demons take whatever means necessary to gain their power, though they have been known to use unconventional means with cycle, in attempts to gain an edge over one another.  We have space dedicated to each in separate text, though, as a reminder, here are the basics: _

**_The first demon - Herit’soni_ **

_ Herit’soni was a difficult demon to find - lavish, crude, and pursues power through man’s intoxicating need for currency typically in its cycles.  Is often interpreted as a corrupt merchant, or leader of a gang who thrives on extortion - it claims souls through little murders here and there that are masked as gang violence or economic crimes in themselves - that is to say, ‘eliminating the competition’.  There is so much destruction that surrounds Herit’soni, it is hard to spot initially.  Herit’soni’s victims whom it claims are spotted by their circulatory system - their veins and arteries become cold, turning a bright purple. _

_ Herit’soni is rather difficult to coax from hiding, as it is equally cautious as it is vile.  A very cunning voidsent, it isn’t common for Herit’soni to be multiple steps ahead of every situation, accounting for every uncertainty in some way.  However, Herit’soni’s greed eventually does become carelessness, and with great care, the right conditions can exist for it to be exposed, particularly when a large prize might be involved. _

_ Herit’soni is currently being held in a book of emerald.  It’s bookend seals are violet - it took a particular intense lightning-imbued seal to subdue it. _

**_The second demon - Qu’til_ **

_ Qu’til, the imp, is of a devious sort.  One of our own scholars was possessed by the voidsent in researching the six.  It was rather talkative, and a great deal of confirmed information came from it.  It appears Qu’til does not mean much harm to man at all - in fact, it is quite a conversationalist, very open and appeasing, almost overly so.  Gradually, however, the scholar became increasing agitated by the presence of Qu’til, as they could no longer sleep or know peace, as Qu’til would never stop talking. _

_ In time, the scholar was driven so mad, they attempted continually to kill themself.  However, when possessed by these particular six, the hosts appear to have increased endurance in all forms, and all attempts were unsuccessful.  We had to contain the scholar in attempts to obtain more information.  Eventually, we had to conclude the experiment. _

_ Qu’til openly accepted refuge in a ruby tome, sealed between two amber bookends, freeing the scholar from their struggle.  They never fully recovered from the event, eventually succeeding in suicide. _

_ We are unsure how Qu’til’s victims are marked, as in our cycle, we did not witness any deaths. _

**_The third demon - Phyglithe_ **

_ Phyglithe is commonly known as the voidsent who raises an army - it never kills a host, but takes on one main form, and possessing any others it might come across.  It keeps all of the husks alive, unquestioning of its will, to serve and destroy.  The husks are spotted by the lack of eyes - they have just white balls with no iris of pupil where an eye once sat.  They might still die as any man might, just that they have no will to call their own. _

_ The demon itself is very intolerable, resistant, and quite belligerent when its personal space is invaded by anyone, or anything.  It commonly raises his army and finds shelter in a bunker somewhere in Eorzea.  As it creates its army, Phyglithe can become quite indulgent in aether, and is easy to catch without an army due to its massive size making it unable to escape.  This is how we contained Phyglithe, as by the time we found it, it was unable to even move it was so engorged. _

_ Phyglithe is in a tome of solid gold, a similar material for bookends. _

**_The fourth demon - Yggmathlin_ **

_ Yggmathlin is easy to spot, but hard to get ahead of.  Its victims tend to be numerous, as the voidsent operates to take advantage of man in an intimate capacity.  Yggmathlin tends to favor women as its host, and moves with precision to kill quickly.  As, there are many men weak the wiles of an attractive woman, so Yggmathlin feasts on their poor judgement in courting a woman properly. _

_ Yggmathlin was fairly simple to catch, as it becomes quite enamored with the history and emotions of the host.  It permits the host a certain level of independence, and in time, can be victimized by the same passions as its victim.  It is more of a parasite than others, feeding off of the actions of the host, but still permitting the host to stay in a fundamental level of control.  Yggmathlin was last sealed when their host was stricken by love, chasing their lover.  Their lover was used as bait to lure out the voidsent’s host. _

_ Yggmathlin was sealed in a black and gold book, with large, white bookends.   _

_ Its victims have a notable black ash halo surrounding their heads.   _

**_The fifth demon - Unlathei_ **

_ Unlathei must be avoided at all costs.  We have taken extra precautions to seal it.  Not even Qu’til was willing to speak much regarding this voidsent, in sheer fear of repercussion.  Through history, we were only able to deduce that Unlathei targets leadership, or royalty, and crumbles nations through intense tyranny.   _

_We happened upon Unlathei in a living host in the rubble of a former Mhachi city.  There, a should be dead body was pinned between a bit of the Nullstone and an immovable marble slab - this was the basis of the bookend research we have instituted now.  The body spoke in a foreign tongue, unwavering, eyes bloodshot and a piercing blue (I will never forget the sight) screaming without recourse until it was able to be sealed by a crude method, which we then increased to the tome within days.  We placed Unlathei in a book of pure ivory cover, ruby bookends to complete the seal._

_ Unlathei’s location is not disclosed to even me at this time.  Though, it is confirmed it is in the library, somewhere.  In history, Unlathei proves to be the most destructive, the most threatening to balance in Eorzea. _

**_The sixth demon - Granfaguth_ **

_ Granfaguth is always known as the first to awaken in every cycle.  This voidsent comes on like an illness to the host - slowly making them pale, and weak, making their will starve, before the voidsent is able to easily consume the hosts’ aether and take the body as their own.  At this time, the body would take a shape more akin to what’s expected from the realm of the twelve circles.  This can be anything from altered eyes of black, horns, jaunted figure, etc. _

_ At this time, Granfaguth’s book was cast into the depths of the library by a crazed scholar, unable to be located.  We still have teams to this day in rapid search to recover the tome.  Without the proper bookend seals, the voidsent within is able to communicate to anyone nearby, coaxing them to open the tome and become possessed. _

_ The tome itself is imbued with a deep sapphire cover, and belong between two emerald bookends. _

\---

Lyniastas sighed at his revelation.  He gazed up again, noticing a pattern on the dome.  He squinted, turning his body, attempting to understand.  On the side of the altar, there was an obvious but geometrically designed voidsent demon, a woman, bearing wide hips, horns, wings… and exposed, large breasts.  She wore a wicked smile. Her legs extended from the head of another roughly inscribed person, of much more normal proportion.

_ “Possession,”  _ he thought.  He gazed around at the design even more, noting that the green aether from the charged book was beginning to dissipate, bringing his view to darkness quickly.

The rest of the design, though some lost from the obvious hole, was clear.

Dozens of horrified faces, wrought, twisted bodies, in horrific form around the remainder of the dome.  Most notably on each one - a black, faded, ash-like halo, seemingly drawn from charcoal or a similar material after the chiseling was done to the thick stone top.

_ “Victims,”  _ he thought again.  It became clear to him, based on the demon, the inscription of the victims…

_ “Meshia stood in this very room once.  Whatever evil which lied within here is now within her.” _ He sighed, looking down to the floor where the pillar of light from the hole ended in uneven rubble.   _ “She must have fallen, then simply forced her way out.  Quite an unlucky place to fall into.  Right into the arms of Yggmathlin.” _

\---

_ “G...Guys, do you… r-r….”  _ Fi’Teri could be heard through the linkpearl.  Everyone placed a finger on their ear.

“Fi’Teri, report.” Lalieri said immediately.

Static flowed through the channel.   _ “...Ter-Terrible… Copperbell… demon is here, he uses… the children are… DOS was a cover...” _

Brygym grunted, locking eyes with Tien, who swallowed hard and squinted to not miss a single word.  “Fair lady, please, speak slowly…” he said.

The static continued.   _ “He t-takes their… I still c-c-cannot kill… wai-wait, I…”  _ The channel was quite disjoined from the distance and conditions.

Everyone stood in complete silence.  Lyniastas looked up to the light pouring in from the hole above the shrine.  There was an extended pause before the faint communication continued.

_ “...Meshia… can confirm, I have eyes… M-Meshia…” _

Lyniastas exhaled sharply.  His lips tightened at the mere spoken word of her name.

_ “Meshia… killing the children… confirmed deaths…” _

_ “Send help… they are coming… s-she is… I...” _

“Fi’Teri?”

“Fi!?” Lyniastas could be heard in the linkpearl.

No response.  Brygym and Lalieri locked eyes.  They nodded in unison.  Lalieri lifted one hand, elevating slightly from the ground, as a blue aether began to wisp around her.  She spoke.

“DOS, we move to Copperbell immediately.  It appears we’ve a date with demons.  Let’s see which of the six we might find.  Saving Fi’Teri is our top priority.”

They all agreed, moving in a similar motion, being surrounded by a luminous blue aether.

_ “I will save you,”  _ Lyniastas thought to himself, as his consciousness melded with the aetherflow to carry him to Ul’Dah.

_ “It is this, or I die knowing I can no longer be with you.” _  Thoughts of his youth with Meshia flooded his mind as he soared, weightless.


	14. The Demon's Army Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fi'Teri continues her investigation of the children being abducted.

Fi’Teri sat in the cover of night, watching the entrance to the Copperbell Mines, observing all matter of adventurer that went in and out. Of course, this was a popular place those young looking for thicker skin might go to earn a few kills of their own… but Fi’Teri knew that deep inside, there must be something much more interesting. From what Vina’ita had told her, the men come always under the cover of night, leaving Ul’dah with a caravan, the Dravanian Occult Society logo upon all of the mysterious, large boxes within. The coming of age ceremony seemed to stem from something inside, but… Fi’Teri feared the worst, knowing that their brand was upon something that Lalieri appeared to know nothing about.

As the stars took over in the Eorzean sky, she grew slightly weary, until her black ears perked up to the sound of soft chocobo warks and creaky wheels. A caravan with two yellow birds approached. She was not hidden necessarily, as the place was public and had many a table and chair for gathering adventurers to form parties, though it was slightly less barren at this hour. She did not sit nearby a torch, so as she was still, she was hardly noticeable from where she sat.

As the caravan approached the mines, one man got out and nodded to the Immortal Flames soldier at the gate. The soldier moved, walking behind the covered wagon, nodding at the contents. Fi’Teri approached cautiously, hoping to catch a peek. The man’s voice let her know all she needed to.

“Aye, DOS shipment, per usual. Ye doin’ quite th’ study down ‘ere… anythin’ spooky we should be knowin of?” the soldier laughed. As a Roegadyn, the hearty bellow echoed into the chamber for the mines before them.

“No, jus’ the usual.” the man smiled. Fi’Teri definitely did not recognize the highlander Hyur stating he was in the Dravanian Occult Society. She eyed them cautiously and continued to approach, attempting to commit the face to memory. She squinted in the cover of night, closing in on the yalms between them, tiptoeing. She was about five yalms out as the men were nodding with one another. She felt a hand grasp her shoulder. She spun around, gasping, ready to strike in self-defense. Reacting, she thrust her body against whoever grabbed her.

“Oy’! Umph!” she made direct contact. When her eyes focused, she noticed a young Elezen man hunching over, a spear at his back. He wore wrought leather, and dusty old boots. She sighed as he gripped his stomach. He coughed and spoke between gasps. “Rgh… Jus’ wonderin’ if m’lady was lookin’ for some adventurin’... I… rgh…”

Fi’Teri placed a palm on her forehead, shaking her head. “Of course you are…”

“Is ‘ere a problem ‘here?” Fi’Teri heard a voice from behind. She turned back to notice the soldier was approaching, the man from the caravan also peering over. Her tail stood on end as she nervously looked left and right.

“E...er, I…” she said, stammering. “I was just… looking for…”

The soldier faced her a yalm away, looking at her uniform. A calm came over his face and he nodded. “Oh! You must be with them.” he motioned over to the man, who was turning to get back onto the caravan. Confused, he turned back, looking at Fi’Teri.

“What’s this about?” he said.

“Th’ girl’s got th’ same logo on her shirt, boss.” the soldier said to the hyur man. Fi’Teri could feel the sweat brewing upon her brow. The hyur from the caravan approached slowly.

“I ain’ heard nothin’ about new people tonight. Who are ye?” he extended a hand, pointing.

“I… I am Fi’Teri, sir, I…” she thought quickly. “I am sur..surprised they didn’t send word, but… I heard… the cargo was heavy tonight, so… they sent me.” She knew she was doomed. That was awful.

The man crossed his arms. “Hmm. I haven’t heard from Kit’il since the evenin’. Perhaps he’s out and forgot to make mention.” He eyed her up and down. She looked down nervously. “Not sure why he’d pick ye. Alas, if yer wit’ us, then let’s get a move on. Hopefully he’s listenin’ to me and hirin’ new help so I can move on from the graveyard shift.”

“By the Twelve,” Fi’Teri thought. “How on earth did I manage that?”

The soldier looked to the elezen on the ground, clutching his stomach. “Startled me, he did,” Fi’Teri said. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

“S’alright. These green ones’re always gettin’ into things they shouldn’t. I’ll send him away.”

Fi’Teri boarded the caravan with the hyur man. This was the first time she got a view of the cargo - stacks of large boxes, the length of caskets, with the DOS logo on each side. The hyur nodded to another as they both got on the front of the wagon.

“Who’s this?” he asked, suspicious.

“Says she’s new. Here to help. Quite honestly, I’d take any help bein’ down there.”

“Oi! What did Kit say?”

“He still ain’t said nothin’. But look at the jacket. It’s obvious we’re steppin’ up our game. I’ll be glad to get my own soon.” he laughed as he took the reigns in his hands and whipped them lightly. The birds shook and started off into the depths of the mine.

The trip was met with minutes of silence initially, until the man Fi’Teri met first spoke up. “Lass, just how much did Kit’il tell ye about what we do down ‘ere?”

“W...Well…” Fi’Teri felt a pit in her stomach again. “He… He told me about the children, and that most of it I’d have to see for myself, honest!” she laughed nervously.

“Hmph.” The second man interjected. “Suppose his standards are droppin’ if he’s too scared to even tell ye what’s waiting for ye. Don’t say I didn’t warn ye. Could always get off and go back.”

“I need the money, the job is worth it.” Fi’Teri flung back quickly.

He rolled his eyes. “Is the work in Ul’dah gettin’ so bad? Gods.”

Fi’Teri had been to the mines before, like any common adventurer, but she noticed quickly that the men were taking many twists and turns down the shafts that were far out of well-travelled paths. The birds seemed comfortable with the journey, knowing the route fairly well. The lanterns attached to the covered wagon swung to and fro, exposing dark, damp rock walls and splintering support beams. Fi’Teri was not thrilled as claustrophobia set in lightly, but she fought it off to keep her cool.

There was another few minutes of pause before the second man spoke again. “Suppose we should at least give ye some ground rules.”

“Hey now, she-”

“Listen, you remember yer first time? Gods, ye nearly soiled yer trousers.” He chuckled to himself.

The first man sighed. “I suppose yer right. If she’s gonna be around, she’s gotta know. Listen, down ‘ere, and we’re not far now, there’s… somethin’ goin’ on.”

Fi’Teri looked at him, listening intently. “What kind of thing?”

The wagon creaked as the birds took another turn down the mineshaft. “We dun get too far, obviously, but far enough to know. The children who go down don’t come back up. But… we see ‘em. And they ain’t right. Dun try talkin’ to ‘em, they dun answer. Also, dun try anythin’ funny in the room, they’re everywhere.”

“The children?”

“Aye. They be under some spell. The client, whoever, whatever, is down there, pays all our salaries and then some, so long as we keep bringin’ in the kids from Ul’dah with nothin’ to live for. They’ll die in time, or, they’re given a good last go with us ‘fore we send ‘em. Kit’il says it’s justice, but… my mate an’ I ‘ere, it’s just coin. If you know what’s good for ye, make it just about th’ coin fer ye too.”

Fi’Teri nodded. “I’ve my own mouth to feed. I do not wish to be like them.”

“Then do as I say. We lie the boxes down one by one. We then open them, an’ then we get out. Of the seven hells, I’m convinced we’ve found one down there.

The journey continued a bit longer until they arrived at massive service elevator. The birds boarded, the wagon in tow, with a bit of room to spare. Fi’Teri noticed the slight sway of the room as it suspended over a long shaft downward. The second man got out, flipping a switch on the wall of the elevator chamber, then pressing a large button. As he pressed it, the chamber groaned to life, and a door rose to close off the entrance to make a small chamber. Dust that lined the ropes and pulleys shook free and they started to creep downward.

“One last thing,” the man said. Fi’Teri nodded at him.

“They’re always watchin’. Even now.”

Fi’Teri peered about nervously. What did he mean?

As the shaft went deeper, Fi’Teri noticed a faint green light began to illuminate their surroundings. She noticed crystals lining the rock wall shafts - they seemed to be emitting an aetheric glow.

“That’s how ye know we’re gettin’ close.” the man said.

The chamber slowed to a halt, and the second man flipped the same switch upward again, which prompted the door to open. Fi’Teri glanced behind the covered wagon, above the long crates. The chamber was incredibly impressive, a large earthen room, with huge green crystals illuminating it brightly, jutting out from the walls, some bigger than the caravan itself. The ceiling was rather tall as well, at least ten yalms up. The second man walked behind the caravan as the first man got out to the front, in front of the chocobos, motioning them backward. Slowly, the wagon creaked back, entering the chamber large chamber, where Fi’Teri noted every groan of the wagon echoed.

Yet still, Fi’Teri had a strange feeling. The man said they were being watched, but even with the old wagon’s chorus of contempt for use, she heard a deafening silence all the same. Something did not feel right about this place.

The caravan stopped, and the birds chirped happily to cease a moment. The first man in front motioned to Fi’Teri to come around the back of the wagon. She complied, hopping off of the front seat and coming around.

“Simple matter now, we jus’ take the boxes down, lie them side by side, one at a time, an’ leave ‘em to it.”

Fi’Teri blinked. “Leave… who to it?”

The men sighed. “Look around. Closely.” Fi’Teri took a moment of reflection before swallowing and peering around the room. At first, the room did not seem like much, but then she saw them.

Beady, white eyes. Behind every stone, every beam, up and down the rock walls, pearly white eyes peering down upon them. The room was absolutely swarming with children, all tucked into the shadows, all eyes fixated on them. Above, the children climbing the rock wall seemed to move slowly, weaving in and out of the rock face, never looking away.

White eyes, like her mother from that night. Fi’Teri knew now whatever may be at work here, it was voidscent. It was relevant. Chasing Vina’ita had really led to something. But, she also learned something. It was deduced that the white-eyed symptom was a reaction from the soul leaving the body. How were these children still moving?

“Wh… what are they…”

“Lass, like I said, best not to ask. Th’ sooner we get these off, the sooner we leave. Tha’s the plan.”

“They’re like… insects, or spiders, waiting for us to enter their web...”

“Aye, they’ll stop at nothin’ to strike. We’re in it now. Let’s move, girl. Gil ain’t nothing to dead men.”

She could hardly collect herself. She could not make out the children themselves, but their eyes had such a strange, illuminated glow. She could tell by those on the ground that they were young, as those who stood, did not stand very tall. Without the moving wagon, the room sat in pure silence. They seemed to move slowly, without so much as a peep or rustled foot over rock. She swallowed hard, shut her eyes, and turned back toward the caravan.

There were 12 long crates, four rows stacked three high. Fi’Teri was asked to get into the front of the caravan again, and undo the straps that held them down, as well as shimmy them out slightly so the men could pull them out easier. She watched as they would place each long crate down on the uneven rock floor beside another, stacking none of them.

“Vina’ita must be in one of these,” Fi’Teri said to herself. “They are just sending him to his death, or otherwise. But… how can I save him now…?”

She got to the final stack of crates. The top crate did not budge. She pressed against it with as much force as she could muster, yet still, it could not be moved. The crate was significantly heavier than the rest.

“H… hey, this one, it’s…”

The second man groaned. “They better not be stackin’ ‘em two per again, like before. They know darn well that the little ones aren’t fancy to it. They’re gettin’ greedy an’ handin’ over too much at once. Come now.” he motioned to the first man, who had just placed a crate down. He walked back. Fi’Teri noticed one of the children had come out of a corner slightly. They stood before them with a blank expression on their face. An Elezen child, they had long, black hair that fell straight to their elbows, they were dressed in simple enough commoner attire. Their head bobbed slightly left and right as they just watched, their grey eyes piercing through whatever they focused on. It took everything Fi’Teri had to look away. She bit her lip.

One man jumped into the back of the caravan, an echoing grunt from the wood pouring through the cavern. He grabbed the back of the crate, nodding at Fi’Teri to push from the front of the wagon. Their motions together budged the crate. The first man, outside behind the wagon, attempted to grab it, tilt it, and slide it off the wagon gently, but as the weight shifted unevenly, causing him to lose his grip. He grunted.

“O-oh gods, I-” he attempted one last time to catch the crate and failed, as it crashed to the ground. The children did not even stir from the loud bang. He stumbled backward, and the crate cracked, the lid splitting in two and tumbling to the floor, an echo of pine lightly cracking. The man looked in the crate in complete confusion, squinting in bewilderment. “What the…?”

What happened next seemed like a blink of an instant to Fi’Teri. From inside the box, a large figure came forth, lunging towards the man. The figure was shrouded by a large, tattered coat, but Fi’Teri could barely make out yellow hair that freely flowed on top of the collar. He fell backward as the figure mounted him, a single hand raised to the air and fell upon his face, covering it.

Fi’Teri heard the words she hadn’t in years. The very same incantation from that night. Her pupils became slender. Her ears perked. Her tail coiled around her side.

The same words that killed her mother. Fi’Teri would never forget those sounds. She felt her spine lock up, her hands immediately began to shake. She gasped, slipping backward, falling into the seat in the front of the carriage. She knew it was too late for him, yet she still could not help but hope this was a dream. Peering about, she noticed the children began to wander closer to the conflict, slowly taking jaunty step after jaunty step. They did not speak or flinch at any of the confrontation.

“Oi! Who’re ye!? What’re ye doin’ to-” The other man scuffled from inside of the carriage and jumped from the back, looking to take the attacker from behind.

Fi’Teri scrambled and rose to shout. “No! Don’t-!” suddenly, a few children nearby whipped their necks to fixate their gaze on her. They froze, then slowly turned toward her. She glanced all around the vehicle - she was surrounded. Fi’Teri swallowed hard, unable to act.

Her protest went unheard to the other man. As he lunged in mid-air, the figure swept a leg from around their first victim, raising a hand, extending their legs to meet the figure. They moved with incredible speed, catching the other man by the neck mid-air as he fell toward them, his hand clenched as a fist in an attempt to attack.

As the figure’s hand met his neck as he fell into their grasp, the hand tightened with the force. The scramble became silent with a wicked snap, and the man’s body became limp. It was then Fi’Teri saw her.

Meshia. Meshia just killed two men in cold blood. It really was true. Her eyes were glowing a deep green, almost like the aetheryte that surrounded the room. Fi’Teri let out a muffled sob. How could this be the same Meshia she used to know?

Meshia dropped the man, who crumpled to a heap on the floor. She then sighed, shaking her head, grabbing her ears, groaning. Fi’Teri noticed her eyes began to flicker, the green glow pulsing in and out. The children had closed in but a few yalms from her now. She bit her lip, clenched her fists, and considered her last choices, before Meshia spoke in a tone she almost did not recognize.

“No, no, no! You must understand. We must do this. If you wish to be free, I will have my prize. Look, girl, I’ve been very proud of you up until this moment, but I will shoulder the violence of this one. I want to savor this kill. I have waited centuries to take what is mine. To bathe in Phyglithe’s blood is something I am too rarely afforded.”

The children whipped their heads again, almost like machines or dolls, every single one in the room facing Meshia. They stopped approaching Fi’Teri as well.

Meshia fell to her knees, and began to sob. “They are children. They do not deserve this fate. We can save them… They yet move, you said if they...”

Fi’Teri attempted to understand. Perhaps this really was Meshia. Seemingly entirely different than the person a moment ago. This seemed closer to the truth.

Her eyes flared green again. “Believe me when I say there is a threat far beyond the lives of these children we need to address. I care not for them in the slightest. Yet when I achieve my end, perhaps we shall see what transpires for them. Be a good girl and stay in your heart a while so I might do as we must to succeed.” Meshia stood, staring at the nearest child, a small Lalafell girl. She extended one hand, pointing at her.

“You. Where is that cretin Phyglithe? He and I have much to discuss.”

The girl peered at Meshia a moment before her head pointed upward, and she shrieked loud enough for Fi’Teri to cover her ears in agony. A smog of aether spewed from her mouth as her cold, white eyes turned a deep, illuminated red. Her mouth eventually shut, and she slumped to her knees, her head dangling from her neck. Fi’Teri could smell a gross stench, that like a corpse. She fought gagging. The chocobos warked warily, kicking up a bit of dust.

Slowly, the Lalafell child’s head rose, a conniving grin on her face. She muttered a gruesome chuckle, far too deep for her small vocal chords to have produced. The other children still did not move, staring at Meshia. The room had to have at least thirty children by now between the floor and the walls. The number continued to grow, despite Fi’Teri not even seeing them enter.

“Well, well. It seems I have finally been found.” the girl spoke.

Meshia scoffed. “Phyglithe. You’ve been one to raise armies, but children? You’re coming to know a new low. I will be proud to take your head this cycle.” She spat. “I cannot help but understand how truly desperate you have become in still trying to be relevant to what we must do.”

The girl deeply chuckled again. “I suppose... it shall be Yggmathlin who resides in this body before me, no?”

“Hold you tongue, you do not deserve to speak my name. Not ever.”

“The fourth ring certainly cannot miss you at this point, Yggmathlin. Why is it you still fight?”

“This matter does not concern you. Today, I fight so that I might happily squeeze the last shred of life from your rotten spine. We’ve all duties to fulfill.”

“Duties to yourself? Or to Unlathei?”

Meshia scowled with an audible growl, looking to the corpse below her. She kneeled, grabbing a blade from a hilt at the man’s side. She drew it, lunged toward the child, and with a yell, sliced the blade straight through her. Between her strength and the weak form of the child, the blade freely split the body in two from left to right. The left arm flung and toppled into the darkness, detached from the shoulder. The body rose slightly from the force of the blade, but quickly slid over and off to the side, as a pool of blood poured out from the dismembered corpse. The face of the child was locked as a wicked grin, the eyes faded back to a listless white. Meshia breathed heavily, gripping the blade harder. Fi’Teri nervously gasped, putting her hands over her mouth, biting one finger. She felt her teeth shaking against her skin.

“Unlathei will come to beg for my mercy just as you will soon.” she mumbled. “Even if it kills me.”

Every child in the room lifted their head upward, and shrieked just as the one child did. The echoing shrills were damning to Fi’Teri’s ears, as she fell into the lower part of the seat where the legs so, covering both of her ears with her hands, yet it seemingly did nothing. The stench of death began to pour into her nostrils, causing her eyes to water. The shrieks ceased, though the room was filled with a hazy, purple smog that was settling on the floor, ending about a foot above it. Meshia stood, unwavering, lifting the blade. The eyes of every child in the room flickered to the same red as the Lalafell girl.

They spoke in unison, with the same booming voice.

“Then come, Yggmathlin, I will enjoy to pick apart your crazed corpse again this cycle. Or should I remind you of how you were contained last time?” their voices rang like a dissonant chorus all around her. Fi’Teri placed one hand upon her linkpearl. She had to try.

“You sold your soul for a golden tome, a pretty casket worth nothing to our cause.”

“And you sell yourself to the musings of your host. Tell me - how long did it take before you knew the true love of this body you possess?” The children began to approach Meshia in a full sprint. Two jumped at her, hands extended, from opposite sides. Meshia extended the sword, impaling one through the chest with a single arm, then turned to face the other, raising her leg while bending the knee, and forcing her foot forward, through the chin of the other with a flexible, upward motion. She landed the foot, then pulled the body from the stained steel.

Fi’Teri whispered as best she could through the conflict, shaking violently, tears streaming from her face. “Guys… guys… anyone from the DOS… do you read me? This is Fi’Teri, oh Gods, do you read?”

“I only found a strong host, one of iron will, wrought from heartbreak. I’ve turned this to my advantage.” Meshia smiled, grabbing another child who had closed in by the head, spinning it quickly for a thick snap. She tossed the body towards another approaching pair, who tumbled backward from the force. She made easy work of three who approached in a line with graceful swipes of the blade.

Fi’Teri had risen, watching in horror. She could not make out any response from the linkpearl. She stammered all she could in harsh whisper. “This is terrible… This… down in the Copperbell Mines… there has been… a demon is here, he uses children, the children are his puppets to control, to kill…”

“Oh? You believe yourself immortal?” the children mocked Meshia. “Find someone not helpless in romantics, and you’ve no weakness? What prattle. Come, make your death quick so you can pathetically slink away until the next cycle.” More children approached her as even more seeped through the cracks in the walls. Meshia continued her onslaught, punching, kicking, and cutting her way through every youthful challenger.

“The DOS was a cover for them. There were men in Ul’dah, profiting from selling children to whatever lie down here…”

“I believe myself stronger than you, for today that is all that matters. Pathetic that you chose to enslave youth for your cause. You were once honorable enough to raise an army large enough to challenge Unlathei. Your gluttony has truly become a pitiful matter.”

“He takes their souls, but keeps their bodies. I still cannot kill them regardless, but I know they are no longer alive. Wait, I just realized...” Fi’Teri had discerned from the exchange happening nearby that the demon had called Meshia Yggmathlin, which was not her name. “I have found Meshia. I can confirm that I have eyes on Meshia, and she is really possessed.”

The echoing chorus continued. “We all strive to take on a new strategy and adapt our approach, Yggmathlin. Something you’ve failed to do for countless cycles. You always seem to be the first to go. Though, at least this time, Granfaguth met an end most unfitting before you even awoke.”

Meshia paused. “Granfaguth has already been quelled? But how?”

The children laughed at her, ceasing their approach for a moment. “Are you truly this out of touch? Granfaguth always wakes first, the ceaseless cur. Apparently he wasn’t even a week released before some measly man took his life to protect someone. You hear a lot when you’ve the minds of hundreds at your disposal. I am engorged with history!”

“Meshia had no choice but to take to killing the children. There are two true confirmed deaths of real men…”

“You are engorged in your own purpose, Phyglithe. The only shame I feel for Granfaguth is that I could not kill him myself.” The children may have stopped moving, but Meshia hadn’t. She continued to sprint throughout the room, slicing away at the bodies of the children, their knees buckling as their bodies would drop to the floor, sometimes in two completely separated pieces. The purple miasma on the ground covered the sight of blood, yet it could still be smelled. Meshia noticed a passage on the far end of the room, obscured by a large green crystal. She sprinted toward it, lunging within, without another word. The children followed, save four, who turned toward Fi’Teri once more. She knew she could not escape this time.

“Send help, please, they are coming for me now. Meshia, she is going deeper to kill the demon. I might not survive...”

“Master would like to see you,” one child said.

“To defy his will is certain death,” another chimed in.

“Come now, or we will have to kill you. We don’t want that…” the third spoke.

The fourth smiled the same wicked grin as the Lalafell girl. The booming voice of Phyglithe cma through the child’s mouth. “Be a good girl and listen. You might find me a bit… distracted by these recent developments, but I might have a use for you yet. I’ll need someone a bit more…” the child eyed Fi’Teri’s body. “...strudy for what I’ll need to stop this menace.”

“N-no!” Fi’Teri shrieked, leaping from the carriage, stepping foot on the ground. She missed the first step, sliding and taking a breath of the foul, purple air that hung near the ground. The stench of the miasma filled her lungs, making her cough, suffocating her, weighing her chest down, as if it had turned to stone inside of her. She fell to her knees, feeling her body defy her will, as she continued to gasp for air that was not coming. She clawed toward the elevator, hoping to at least shut the door. She gasped with increasingly short breaths, until strength was fully sapped from her body, rendering her unconscious.

The children merely watched the whole time. They walked toward her slowly, lifted her up, and carried her deeper into the mines.


	15. The Demon's Army Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion to Act II's major story arc.

A harsh wind tore through the vast chamber valleys of the North Shroud.  Dalamund’s incredible crimson glare bore down on the land, like an eye of judgement ready to cast the die of destruction upon the realm.  Foliage was being ripped from the earth below.  There was not a soul in sight, save one Miqo’te woman, riding a chocobo at full speed from Ishgard, bounding toward the depths of the Shroud down the mountainside.  Fi’Teri, a fervent look of determination on her face, equal with worry, rode on.

“I… I will do what I must!”

_“Fi’Teri!  This is a direct order!  You return through the gate and back to Foundation immediately!”_

“They are in danger!  I cannot simply-!”

_“If you value you life, you will turn around!  NOW!”_

“I am sorry, Lalieri… I… I cannot…”

_“You fool.  Should your corpse find its way back to me, I will still berate it.  You know not the extent of what you do.  Your only hope is that Dalamund’s judgement is swift.  The gates are sealed.”_

Fi’Teri held onto the reigns of the chocobo, feeling her pulse through her knuckles.  The bird sprinted at incredible speed from the gate that separated Ishgard from the rest of Eorzea.  The bird’s talons pressed into the earth with pulsing _thumps_ , kicking up soft loam in their wake.  Lyniastas was seen mere minutes before - confirmed with her own eyes - leaving with garb of the the Twin Adder.

He was not alone.

Dalamund was looming over the rocky outcrops of the North Shroud as she barrelled along.  Something was certainly amiss, but she could not abandon her feelings for Lyniastas enough to find safety for herself.  If he was in danger, it was nothing she could not face. She owed her existence to him, and should the danger she put herself in save him, she believed it worthwhile.  Her eyes glared to and fro in hopes of finding that yellow coat around the next corner.

He was with Meshia.

“Why… why would you do this…?” Fi’Teri continued to play the scenario out in her head in any other way but the obvious.  They had known each other since childhood.  They were both Elezen.  Fi’Teri continually spent her free time attempting to wrangle his attention from her long enough to even praise him on her own terms.  The sky grew increasingly dark, as Dalamund’s red glow reflected in her wet eyes.

They were fleeing.

It all seemed like so much hassle.  Why forsake a life in Ishgard, even together?  What was wrong with the life they were building together, members of the DOS, staying where they grew up?  Fi’Teri fought back tears from her heart breaking understanding that Lyniastas would never do the same for her as he is doing for Meshia now.  They want a new life.  Fi’Teri understood the appeal, why stay in the DOS when you could disappear into the shroud forever, existing for just one another?  It didn’t take much to convince her.  An intense wind began to blow around her.

Yet still, she would still go to save him.

She rounded a corner, coming across a large rope bridge that led toward the depths of the Shroud.  Soon, she knew, the elevation would drop, and the dense canopy would take over, as it was beneath them already.  Foundation to Gridania had a fairly steep elevation difference, so the descent between the two cities was intense for many a traveller.  Yet, her hunch was right.  About to cross, at a fervent pace, were two taller individuals, dressed in twin adder garb.  Fi’Teri wasted no time calling out.

“Lyniastas!”

One of the figures flinched, but kept their head down.  The other, started, looked back, tripping over the first slat of wood that made the bridge.  Their hat tumbled from their head, revealing Meshia’s young face, wincing in pain as she slid lightly onto the large, rope bridge.  She quickly rose, but Fi’Teri was closing in rapidly, enough to be able to address them but a yalm away.  Meshia stood, the other figure helping her up, facing away from Fi’Teri.  She dismounted her chocobo.

“You must let us pass,” the other person said.  It was clear by the voice that it was Lyniastas.

“But why?  Why would you do this?” Fi’Teri cried.  Meshia opened her mouth to speak, but Lyniastas interrupted.

“We wish to only live for one another.  Not for the Holy See, not for Lalieri, not for the DOS, not for anyone.  You must… let us disappear, Fi’Teri.”  A nearby tree rustled like a cloth in a breeze, swaying to the will of the intense wind.

“I cannot!  You know I cannot, Lyn, I…” Fi’Teri was losing her grip on her emotions, feeling her lips tremble and sobs building within her chest.  The area around them was illuminated in a crimson light.  She continued, “I can understand what one would do for love, I know better than you realize.  But, I think this is something we can work out, if we return to-"

“We will _not be returning_!” Lyniastas turned, an intense, frustrated gaze at Fi’Teri.  He took a step toward her, off the bridge, extending one arm, waving it to and fro as he shouted, “We did not come all this way to turn back!  We did not go through the trouble of joining the DOS to waive our citizenship to Ishgard just to live out a life of servitude!  Don’t you-!?”

Lyniastas could not finish his sentence.  As he tried, the sky groaned, and an intense light flashed before them.  All three turned to see Dalamund, over the horizon, coming apart, splitting into sectioned bits.  Meshia raised her hand to shield her eyes.  They were paralyzed by the view, even when Bahamut awoke from its painful slumber.

“G...Gods, Bahamut… the elder primal… so the Garleans…”

The primal screeched a bellowing shout that brought them all from their feet.  Immediately, Lyniastas turned to Meshia, still on the bridge, as it limply whipped in every direction from the force.  He scrambled, reaching out a hand while crawling toward her, to take her from the flimsy, creaking boards and feeble rope.

Bahamut too wing.  Massive amounts of energy erupted from the primal as it descended and flew throughout the sky, the energy collecting then raining fire down upon Eorzea.  Lyniastas clenched his jaw, reaching as far out as he could to Meshia, but one comet of Bahamut’s rain struck the opposite side of the bridge with a flurry of splintered wood and flame.  Fi’Teri winced, screaming as the meteor made contact with the mountainside.  It still barrelled down below them, but the bridge quickly darted downward with it, Meshia in tow.  She screamed, attempting to grab one of the boards or a loose piece of rope.  Lyniastas extended his hand as far as he could from the edge of the cliffside, feeling the tips of her fingers grace his, before she tumbled into the fire below, a thick, black smoke masking her fall.  Fire took to the sky above him as more explosions materialed above, causing rubble to be flung all around him.

For a moment, Lyniastas lie there, his hand dangling from the edge.  Tears welled up in his eyes and streamed down his face within seconds.  His mouth lie open in shock.  The shrieks of the primal continued to echo in the sky, along with rumbling earth and loud crashes of additional comets striking the ground.

Lyniastas turned to Fi’Teri, an unspeakable rage in his eyes, red from the sky and destruction surrounding them..  “Y...You!” he shouted, pointed at her as he stood.  “We could have been across, we would be…” He was failing to find the words as he grabbed Fi’Teri’s shoulders, squeezing them tightly.  She openly sobbed, trying to begin a sentence, but failed to.  The massive destruction continued all around them, as the cliffside rumbled and continued to fall all around them.  One large boulder came tumbling down the mountainside, seemingly aligned to their position, unknown to them.  With little time to react when its presence was finally but seconds away from where they stood, Fi’Teri closed her eyes, wondering if there was more she could have done to prevent all of this.  She felt the heat of Bahamut’s fire upon her cheek, searing every tear that fell.  She heard Eorzea falling to its knees before the might of the primal, with cracks of mountains and cities collapsing alike.  Yet, in her final moment, she found herself by Lyniastas.

All of a sudden, it all stood still.  The chaotic overture of Bahamut’s fire ceased.  The temperature cooled.  Fi’Teri had braced herself for the boulder, the fire, all of it, but even Lyniastas stood before her now, frozen.  Confused, she peered about, until behind her, she heard a soft clapping behind her, from the same direction she had barrelled through to find them moments ago.  She turned slowly to see an Au Ra man with long, wavy brown hair and large horns warped around his ears with an average complexion.  He wore average armor, a hard leather with plate embedded in parts.  He continued to clap as he slowly approached, and he spoke.

_“My, an impressive display.  How fortunate that we can say that an enemy of my enemy is now my friend.”_

Fi’Teri attempted to grasp the situation.  “How… What are you?”

_“Me?  Why, dear, I am but a stout ally, here for us to realize both of our means.”_ The man extended both arms out with a untrusting smile.   _“It appears that today, we might both get what we want, should we choose to work together.”_

“This… this is a dream, I’m…” Fi’Teri looked about at the suspended rocks around her, Lyniastas’ cold, unmoving gaze, she even peered into the smoke below, though it was obvious Meshia still could not be seen.  “How… must I wake from this?”

_“Tsk tsk, we’ve just met and you wish to go?  How unbecoming.  The least I could do is introduce myself and my intentions.  My name is Phyglithe.  I, like you, have a score to settle.  Within that friend of yours there, Meshia, lies an old friend of_ _mine_ _, Yggmathlin.  She is a succubus.  And, her and I, you see, we don’t get along, as she continues to be a thorn in my side every time we come around.”_

“You seek the demon within Meshia?  This Yggmathlin?” Fi’Teri looked above at the smoky, red sky.  Comets lie suspended in mid-air, waiting to rain further destruction to the land below.

_“Yes, I do!”_ The Au Ra clapped.   _“You are quite the observant one.  Seems your DOS is smarter than I first anticipated.  I stole your logo thinking whatever strangeness I might get into…”_ he chuckled, “ _...it could be justified by just saying it came from your crazy occult studies!”_

“You used our name to better your own means.  You are no better than Yggmathlin.”

_“Ah, but I am!  See?  Did you not see my beautiful children?  They were homeless urchins within your ‘Jewel’ Ul’dah.  That place is rife with corruption!  These children were reserved to fates that only led to an early death.  I gave them purpose!  I continue to give them sustenance!  They thrive under me.”_

“They seem as but mere puppets to you.”

_“Well, there are… prices one must pay for survival in this realm.  Our power to cleanse this realm and bind it with our own in inevitable.  We are here to… hasten the process.”_

“You and Yggmathlin?  So, in her elimination, I aid you in purging Eorzea for the voidscent to rise?  I would spit on your intent, then, Phyglithe.” Fi’Teri snarled at the man, who was unmoved by her offensive remark.

He lowered his head, shrugging.   _“I come with an offer of peace today, regardless of what battle we might carry tomorrow.  I need Yggmathlin to go away for a while.  You dream of Meshia’s death more than I think you’d like to admit.  We both win should she die.  I am simply saying we do what aids us both.”_

“I never said I wanted her dead.”

_"Oh?”_ the Au Ra scoffed, _“Seems to me you sought no other way to win the heart of your precious Lyniastas than for her to go.”_

“I care not for his heart unless he willingly obliges.” her voice wavered slightly.

_“You pretend you are just all you like.  All things have a price.  You could have him in any capacity you choose.  I assume the only reason you continue to be pressed by this moment of your life is because it did nothing but cause you more pain.  He never fell for you, even after she was assumed dead.”_

Fi’Teri said nothing.  He continued, _“Then, years later, here we are.  She never died!  And worse yet, she’s the very incarnation of that which you oppose once more!  Goodness girl, if you don’t want her dead, what_ _do_ _you want?”_

“Lyniastas.  Her fate is irrelevant to me.”

_“Ah, but it is, as her fate is bound to him.  By proxy, it has value to you.”_

Again, she said nothing.

_“But, I see how it is.  I did not wish to resort to this, however…”_ Phyglithe rose one hand, forming a dark, fiery energy around it.  He pointed the hand toward her.   _“If you will not choose my side of your own free will, there are many ways I can… give you enlightenment to my cause unconditionally.”_

Fi’Teri thought of the children.  She gasped, taking one step backward, tripping over a suspending rock in mid-air.  She fell to her back, scrambling backward as the dark black and purple flame grew around his hand.  He stepped toward her, the same smile upon his face.

_“Do not fight me, girl.  This is your dream I have created.  I have full control of your mind as we speak now.  What you will become, you become because I will it.”_

“N-No!”  Fi’Teri looked around, desperately seeking escape.  She peered down the side of the mountain.  “This is a dream… this is a dream…” she whispered to herself.  She took one last look at the Au Ra, two yalms away, biting her lip.  She had to make a quick decision.

“I’d rather die myself than serve a demon like you.  I am much stronger than Meshia, that is reward enough.”

Fi’Teri lunged backward, off of the cliffside.  The Au Ra shouted something Fi’Teri could not make out as she plummeted into the smoke below.  She closed her eyes, readying herself for the inevitable impact, or what else might await her below.

Yet it did not come.

Fi’Teri’s surroundings blurred, she felt her breath be taken away.  She felt as if she were lying down.  She inhaled, gasping for air, feeling something pressing against her face.  Quickly responding, she grabbed whatever it was, feeling a hand, and tugging it away.  She struggled and fought as the hand attempted to remain in place.  She felt like she was lying on something flat, and hard, like rock.

“Sit still, worm.  You will be mine one way or another.” a familiar voice said, echoing in what sounded like another large room.  Phyglithe was no doubt her captor.  His palm was over her mouth, preventing her protest.  His fingers lightly dug into her eyestockets, painfully preventing her sight.  She felt feeble, yet found strength enough to struggle.

Fi’Teri heard another noise in the room.  His grip tightened, she felt him turn her head slightly as his body turned to face it.

“Y-You!  But how!?”

“You’re as loud as they come, Phyglithe.  You fool.”  Meshia.  Or… Yggmathlin?  Fi’Teri did not know for sure.  She heard the Elezen grunt, just as Phyglithe raised a protest, she heard a crunchy _rip_ of flesh and bone, and the hand released its grip on her face, followed by a _schtunk_ into a rocky wall.  She wrestled the arm off, noticing it was not attached to a body anymore.  A forceful shout from the Au Ra bellowed in the large room.  “You believe I cannot sense your presence?  You, like always, underestimate the world around you.  Strength in numbers is never enough.”

Fi’Teri rubbed her eyes and quickly darted her gaze back and forth.  Next to her, a large person gripped one side of their body as it began to openly flow with blood down their side to the floor.  She noticed it resembled the person from her dream, but… incredibly large.  No Au Ra she had ever seen was so overweight.  He was clearly limited in mobility, as his legs were like short stumps beneath an incredible large, bulging torso.  On the wall next to him, a blade lie socketed into it, forced in straight.  She moved her gaze where he looked.  On the other side of the room, there she stood, one arm extended forward.

Phyglithe sputtered a laugh almost like a cough, as a trickle of blood dripped from his parted lips.  The green from the aether crystals surrounding the room pulsed lightly.  He gripped the wound where his arm was socketed moments ago.

“Eventually, I ran out of children to kill,” the Elezen continued.  She took a step into the chamber, standing about five yalms from them.  Fi’Teri noticed she was on a sort of altar, positioned in a way to be violated by the demon.  Yet, she still had no means to escape.  She was still a bit dizzy, and she was no doubt between two powers greater than she.  She lie frozen in wait.  The Elezen brushed her own face, smearing but also removing some blood splatter from her cheek.  Her arms also had a similar pattern, red dots lined up her bare arms up to the elbow, where her long, dark coat took over.

She took another step forward, “For you, this is a new low, Phyglithe.  I was expecting you to be smart.  When I knew the Immortal Flames might have been in on that child operation, I thought for sure you were smart enough to be ingrained in their ranks, but no.  You targeted only the children.  Are you so weak from our cycles that now you cannot fathom true strength through others anymore?  That you must target weak, immature minds to enslave?  You were once a champion of armies, terrorizing Eorzea.  Now you slink away into the depths of a cave and force the weak to submit to you.”

“You… you cur… you know nothing…” Phyglithe forced his resentment toward her.  The shock was setting in, allowing him the strength to speak a bit more.  “And you…?  Up to much the same, targeting a poor young woman, lost in love, desperate to find her precious Lyniastas…?”

She stopped moving forward a moment, clenching her jaw, her gaze intensified.  Fi’Teri shook, biting her lip, watching as she reacted to his name.  The Elezen looked at Fi’Teri, nodding slowly.

“You failed to even swoon the pliable heart of Fi’Teri, I see.  You learned much about my vessel.” The Elezen said.  Fi’Teri knew it was Yggmathlin in control.  “It’s a shame you could not maintain control.  It was all you had left.”

“Then you should also know… Lyniastas is the very same who killed Granfaguth this cycle.”

Meshia crossed her arms.  “Oh?  Has he already passed as well?  I am not surprised.”

“I picked through her memories.  They don’t have his book.” Phyglithe smirked.

There was silence in the chamber for a moment.  Fi’Teri pondered the significance of that statement, though the demons seemed tight-lipped to it.

“Then I shall.” was all Meshia said.  She was a yalm away from Fi’Teri now.  Fi’Teri took note of how much Meshia had changed - her shape seemed… distorted in a way that made her a touch insecure.  She seemed to be more shapely than Fi’Teri could recall.  Meshia looked down at her, tilting her head slightly.  “Sorry girl, your former rival is taking a bit of a rest while I take care of business.  Don’t expect much sympathy from me either, however.”  She reached down, clutching Fi’Teri’s coat at the chest and her thigh, hoisting her from the stone slab across the room.  She made contact with the wall with a loud yell, then hitting the floor with a _thud_ that echoed throughout the chamber.  She did not move.

Meshia turned to the wounded Phyglithe, who continued to grunt, grasping at his shoulder.

“How.. did you get so strong..?”

“Quality over quantity, Phyglithe.  Something you will never understand.”

Meshia lifted a leg, bringing it down on Phyglithe’s chubby knee beneath his engorged abdomen.  As he fell, she extended one arm, grabbing his face.  He slumped to sitting on his feet, and she began to speak the demonic incantation.

Fi’Teri, hardly conscious, heard the familiar words that took her mother yet again as she fought to come to.

\---

Meshia sat on the side of a river bank, in common attire, her bare feet beneath the water, feeling the flow of the stream pass over her toes.  Around her, a serene forest on a sunny day was the setting, a beautiful place of tranquility.  She enjoyed the peace for a few moments, her ears taking in the chirping of birds, the flow of water.  She heard footsteps approaching behind her.

“Hello, Meshia.”

She turned to see a gentleman Au Ra, much like the one she witnessed Yggmathlin wounding moments ago, yet the large figure was gone.  He was much more akin to the regular size one would expect of the race.  Meshia looked down, realizing the changes Yggmathlin made to her body were also absent, she felt like her regular self again.  The Au Ra man sat by her side, crossing his legs.  He looked down with a faint smile.

“We’ve not long.  So I wanted to apologize.”

Meshia looked confused.  “Wh… Why, sir?”

“You and I are one in the same.  We are the catalysts of destruction - we hold an unspeakable evil within us.  I’ve not met anyone like you.  I’ve not been afforded the opportunity to speak with anyone like this.”

“I the same.” Meshia replied.

“I am apologizing because… my time is up.  It is beautiful.  I loathed my existence since the day I opened that book, much like you, I assume.  Yet, today, only one of us will finally know salvation.  Only I will be returning to the aether, free from the burdens Phyglithe was placing on me.  You will need to press on still, at the whim of evil.”

“I do what I must to survive.”

“...I see.” The Au Ra placed a finger on his chin.  “I am Renzela.  I came from the far continent of  Othard, where I found the book.  It appears the Sharlayans took it as far as they could from the realm in a vain attempt to make Phyglithe someone else’s problem!” He chuckled lightly, “Yet, I returned all the same.  Rather, Phyglithe did.  By that time I was simply along for the ride.”

“I can understand that much,” Meshia nodded.

“If what Fi’Teri’s memories told us is true, Phyglithe was right.  This Lyniastas did kill another demon from the cycle.  That means that four remain.”

“Four?”

“Aye.  One yet sleeps, I doubt man even knows of its existence.  Phyglithe muttered much to himself in the time he was within me.  Despite how this all fell on him, he was fairly tactful in what he had already built.  He probably assumed I wouldn’t see the light of day again, so he didn’t check his mouth nearly enough.  I learned a great deal of what they are and what man must do to stop them.”

Renzela lifted a hand, palm face open, toward Meshia.  “Yggmathlin will never tell you much of what happens.  I must apologize once more - I must impart this knowledge unto you.  For time is of the essence, and I do not wish for it to die with me.  I failed to evict Phyglithe’s influence from my being.  But it might not be too late for you.”

Meshia sighed, looking upon him.  “When we touch…”

He smiled a gentle smile.  “Hrm.  You’re not new to this, I figured.  I know.  I am ready to go.  I want to be released, Meshia.  Do me the justice, before they decide their battle through more violent means.”

“You… don’t deserve this, Renzela…”

He leaned in, speaking low.  “My greed and lust speak differently.  One look at that golden tome prison Phyglithe was in and my heart was stolen from me to the purpose of lusting for the material.  Hindsight tells me otherwise, but that did not care to exist then.”  Renzela looked to the sky, his horns shimmering in a lone ray of sunlight parting through the trees.  “You don’t deserve this either, Meshia.  Remember that.  Release your own pain as I must now, choose to fight… the decision is yours.  As for me…”

Renzela leaned in, embracing Meshia from the side.  She shut her eyes.  He felt warm to her touch, his grip upon her a gentle, calming presence surrounding her.  For the first time in months, she felt relaxed, just realizing his happiness in passing on.

She opened her eyes, and he was gone.  She continued to feel warmth in her chest for a moment at the river’s edge, before her vision became cloudy, blurred from the dream passing.

\---

The Elezen gasped and leaned backward, taking her hand from the face of the Au’Ra man.  It was done.  Phyglithe had returned to his seal, and was no more, like the man as well.  A familiar white hue of his eyes implied his fate no different than any other she had faced.  Yet, in this blank expression, there was a somber peace.  With pursed lips, almost in a smile, the Au Ra seemed to be realizing a long-awaited relief.  Death was inevitable from the second he opened the book.  The concept dug into Meshia deeply as she shook her head lightly to come to.  Though she was promised eventual liberation, was it a lie?  She squinted as the concept rattled her mind a moment, as the ritual was more trying than usual.  She felt a weakness she had not known previously, no doubt from the victim housing a great power that she subdued.  Yggmathlin was quiet as well, unlike her.  Perhaps possessing her body for so long also took a toll.

She heard a shuffle of feet, snapping her attention to her side.  She focused fast enough to see down the barrel of Fi’Teri’s firearm about four yalms away, out of immediate reach.  Exhaling sharply, Fi’Teri cocked the gun, and placed a single finger on the trigger.  Meshia, still weak, glared at her, knowing she was without a ploy.

“I have waited years for this,” she whispered, beginning to squeeze.  A single tear ran down her cheek to her quivering, pressed lips.  “You never deserved him.”

A shot echoed through the deep caverns of Copperbell Mines.


	16. His Crime, Her Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fi'Teri's attack does not go entirely as planned.

A dark dawn was emerging in Thanalan.  The deep ink hue of night was dissipating, making way for a drab gray, as a welcomed rain enriched the plain.  Flora and fauna flowed the droplets of water to the earth, where it was absorbed to fall to its roots for nourishment.  Upon the hill leading to Copperbell mines, a caravan lie ready, its rear pointed toward the entrance.  A Lalafell barreled up the hill on a chocobo, navigating around the caravan, leaping off the bird by Lalieri’s side.  He was dressed in Immortal Flames leadership garb, a familiar red and black with decorated gold trim.

The rain seemed to fall around Lalieri in slow motion to her.  She stood in anticipation for what would come from the depths of this cave.  If even half of what she heard were true, she knew… circumstances were dire, to say the least.  Aspiring adventurers still crowded nearby, peering at her, making room for the Flame Legion leader who made for her side.  Other Flames soldiers surrounded the entrance, making room for whatever might emerge.

“Seven hells, Lali.  If I had known-”

“Spare me.” She said through quivering lips.  Her throat was dry, yet she still attempted to swallow, burying her immediate feelings.  The rain prattled on her bare head, her pink hair slick and straight, stuck to the sides of her head and neck.

“...Look, I know I gave you much grief when I first told you of the boy, it was in jest, I…” the Lalafell looked on, his dark eyes gazing to a glittering lantern on the side of a beam shallow within the cave’s mouth.  He tilted his hat slightly away from Lalieri so the rain would drip away.

Their faces lit up as they heard a clamor from within the mine.  Again, time seemed to slow for Lalieri, as if she could count the rain droplets around her.  A figure could be seen sprinting, illuminated by the visible lanterns in the cave.  An Immortal Flame soldier,  gripping something with both hands from behind.  Behind him, Tien appeared, gripping something that they could now tell was between them.  He was shouting for the way to clear to the nearby caravan, despite already being cleared.  Tears flowed freely down his dark, unshaven cheek, his amber eyes glossy.  He was clearly out of breath, fighting the motion of inhaling and exhaling as he carried on a full sprint with the soldier, who also struggled.  They were carrying a makeshift cot, two poles with fabric between, holding something up.

As they passed Lalieri, she saw her.  Fi’Teri.  It was true.  Undeniably so.

“This… can’t be happening.”

Time stood still as Lalieri gazed upon her.  Her eyes were barely open, she could see the crystalline blue barely peeking through her dense, dark eyelashes.  The Miqo’te’s mouth lie open in short, labored breaths.  As she continued to pass by, the cover over her body was a brownish linen, but Tien’s concern became apparent. The cloth bore a thick, red stain at her chest.  A single hand had worked its way out of the fabric, between her fingers and up her arm was a brownish red as well, dangling from the makeshift carrier, to and fro with their steps.

Lalieri swore for a moment, Fi’Teri’s eyes fixated on her.  Though impossible, as she had to be unconscious.

“That looked…” the Lalfell beside her began, snapping time back to normal for Lalieri.  Tien barrelled past toward the caravan behind the soldier, who jumped on as he reached it first, pulling her and her makeshift cot up into it.

“Don’t say it.” Lalieri looked down, grim.  She tried to swallow again, a futile attempt.

Tien lifted a wooden gate and pulled down a cloth cover over the covered wagon.  He stepped around, waving the driver on, and the chocobos took to a sprint.  He watched the caravan storm off, through growing puddles splashing to and fro.  After he stood, looking away for a moment, he fell to his knees and buried his head in his hands, weeping softly.

“Th...there’s… n-no way…” he barely muttered audibly, moving a fist to dig into the mud he kneeled upon.

Lalieri sighed once more, looking upon a broken Tien.  Lifting one hand, she worked a rogue bit of hair strapped to her cheek behind her ear.  Moments later, Brygym’s familiar burly shape emerged from the darkness, a glinting object in his hand.  She gazed upon him as he came into the dawn’s meager light through the cloud cover, noting what he held was a book.

A gold-lined, thick tome.

Phyglithe.

He stepped out into the rain, lifting the book, cover up, as the rain  _ plinged _ against the metal binding and ornate design.  Depicted on the cover was a large, angry, shadowy figure, with many smaller copies of the same design printed smaller beneath it, lined up symmetrically.  A rumble of thunder nearby set the foreboding tone for what lie within the pages.  He worked loose a button on his long jacket, pulling out one side and sliding the large book in a sash beneath.  Closing his coat, he grunted, frowning, a sullen look upon his face.

“I saw what was beneath that linen.  Promise me you won’t,” he muttered darkly, his eyes an easy read to his overbearing sadness.

“I…” Lalieri still had naught to add.

“The council is no doubt on your mind.  Be at peace on that until we need to prepare.”

Lalieri had not even considered that until he spoke of it.  The Ishgardian Council, they who created and now look over the DOS, as they do every funded project that oversees the protection of Ishgard.  This would be an incredible burden to their credibility.

“We have the book.  It is a start… and a stark reminder of why we are needed.  We will survive.”

“‘Tis not the book I’m worried about, Brygym.  Fi’Teri.  Her, and… Gods, what happened…?  Brygym… what...”

“We’ve still too much to learn.”

For a few moments, they stood solemnly, without words.  The sun continued to attempt illuminate through the dense cloud cover, with little success.  The echoes of heavy chain and slow feet was next to emerge from the cave’s ominous darkness.  Three figures emerged, two Immortal Flames soldiers, and a battered Lyniastas in the middle.  His hair flustered, swayed to and fro, his clothes tattered, he looked utterly defeated.

As he came into light, the chains binding his hands and feet glistened in the warm glow of the lanterns lining the cave walls.  He looked down, expressionless, not speaking a word.  Slowly, they approached the mouth of the dungeon.  For a moment, he stopped, biting his lip, before being pushed on by one of the soldiers.

They passed Lalieri.  Still, Lyniastas did not look up, his lips firm, his gaze unfocused toward the ground.  The soldier to his right stopped, faced her, extending a gloved hand and a gun.  Lalieri merely gazed upon it.

“It was found on his person allegedly moments after the shot.” he spoke to her.  “It is presumably the weapon what was used to-”

“K...Keep it.  I’ve no need for this now,” she interrupted.

The man nodded.  Lalieri leaned down looking up at Lyniastas, attempting to make eye contact.  He did not oblige.  The soldier offered the gun to Brygym, who waved him on.  “As she said, men.” The soldier nodded.

“ _ You. _ ” A voice sharply penetrated the unnerving atmosphere around the emergence of Lyniastas.  Tien rose to his feet, his back facing the group.  “She loves you.  Fi’Tieri, she… she would die for you!  Why!?  Why would you do this to her!?”  He turned, his eyes full of unrequited rage, his hands shaking fists.  His amber eyes fixed on Lyniastas, who still looked down to the ground.

Tien took a step forward, his heel coming to a slick footing into the mud, moving but a few yalms from where Lyniastas stood.  The soldiers looked to one another in confusion.  The Lalafell commander waved them on, and they nodded.  Tien took another step forward, challenging the order.  His teeth could be seen as his nose scrunched and another tear flowed down one cheek.

“Years.   _ Years _ you have ignored her pleas for your affections.  Day in, day out, mission after mission, she finds you, she cares for you, she would do anything for you.  That which you never even ask for, yet there is a need, she is there.  And  _ this _ is how you return that sympathy!?” Tien stammered, unknowing of how he could materialize his next phrase.

He shut his eyes a moment, opening them after he spoke.  “Before me there is nothing more than a demon.  You’re no better than Phyglithe.  Than any of them.  Than Meshia herself.”  He glared once more to the Elezen man.

Lyniastas’ face shot up to glare at Tien, as Tien stepping forward yet again, standing a yalm away from him.  They faced one another.  Lalieri felt time slow yet again.  Hushed whispers began to build around the unseasoned adventurers nearby who gathered for the scene.  Their eyes fixated on one another, droplets of rain drawing the shape of their faces as it fell upon them.

Silence deafened the scene, even the rain seemed to mean nothing to the ear in anticipation for what came next.

“Pitiful.” Tien said.  Time resumed again for Lalieri.  The stress was truly becoming a burden to her senses.

Tien continued, “Pitiful, that we call you friend.  Pitiful, she wished you a lover.”  The rain intensified around them.  Tien’s voice rose as he spoke more.  “Pitiful, that we hunt a true evil, and you’ve only concern for a dead woman now possessed to harm another.  Meshia is dead, Lyniastas.  There is only Yggmathlin now.  Now we find you would even harm Fi’Teri so that Yggmathlin might continue her destructive journey!?  How long before she takes another life!?   _ How long before you finally realize Meshia is dead!? _ ”

Lyniastas only looked back in silence.  After a few moments, Tien spit on the ground at Lyniastas’ feet.  He leaned forward and spoke with a tense whisper.

“So help you if I witness Fi’Teri’s last breath.  I will then come to find yours next, and take it for myself.” Tien braced quickly, turning his back foot to the side, bringing his front foot up then forward, connecting with Lyniastas in the stomach.  The thick, leather heel pressed deeply into him, making a  _ thud _ .  He grunted and fell to his knees, groaning between quick breaths, his head bowed once more.  He did not reply.

“Oh look, there’s actually life in the body.  A pity there’s no soul.” Tien peered about to the young crowd that looked upon him with a sarcastic, but pained still, smile.

Tien still looked over Lyniastas, his fists clenching again. Brygym stepped forward shouting, “That’ll be quite enough, Tien.  You’ve no place to perpetuate this harm.”

Lalieri peered about, paralyzed by the depth of the situation.  Brygym looked to her quickly, realizing her moment of weakness, and continued.  “Men, detain him back in Ul’dah.  Arrange for transport to Ishgard. Tien, you-”

“I’ve said all I need to.  I cannot be near such filth any longer.” He turned, kicking mud up with his heel into Lyniastas, the wet dirt clinging to his face.  “Even Hydaelyn’s bounty, wet on his face, looks as gold upon his filthy existence.”  Tien stormed off, into the dense rain, down the hill that led up to the mines, quickly out of sight.

The two Immortal Flames soldiers detaining Lyniastas picked him up and slowly walked toward a nearby stable, chocobos within.

Lalieri placed her head in her hands.  Brygym sighed, looking to the sky, still grey and unforgiving.

“This could be the undoing of the DOS.  Gods help us.  For the first time, I know naught of our future, Brygym.”

“Aye, ours truly is a future without a calculated course.”

“To Ishgard, then.  For trial.  ‘Tis the only thing we know now.”

“For trial.  For survival.  I’ve no doubt… the summons to the council is already waiting for me.”

“I shall attend as well.” Brygym nodded, assuming.

Lalieri shook her head slowly, “I won’t allow it.  I need eyes on Tien.  On Fi’Teri.  On Lyniastas, no less, for his own safety.  You’ve much to do.  Don’t even get me started on the matter of that accursed book.”

Brygym sighed.  They had little left in them to argue, and the day had just begun.  Another boom of thunder roared across the plains of Thanalan.  Many a green adventurer nearby, still in awe of the scene, scattered in fear.  Lalieri and Brygym remained unmoving.

The rain fell upon them for minutes, paralyzed by the events of the morning.  Even after the Lalafell commander took leave, they remained, alone, until Brygym nudged her onward.

“Survival.” Lalieri reflected on the idea, looking to the sky, which reminded her of her meager existence in the grand landscape of Eorzea.  “Just how did Lyniastas end up with that gun?”


	17. His Grievances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brygym takes the spotlight as much of his life suddenly intertwines with the events at hand.

Brygym’s room hardly looked lived in. He had a tendency toward cleanliness, of that much was almost assumed of his composed demeanor, yet, did few know most of the decisions of his living quarters came down to inches. Hardly recognizable traits that many would overlook. His library upon his shelves were categorized, then alphabetized. His chair sat diagonally toward the window across the room facing east, so that the morning light would catch him exactly on time should he fall asleep deep in a book. His closet a set of only two outfits - DOS uniforms, and the undergarments beneath them, neatly folded beneath the hung, pressed uniforms, on a stool. Candles were replaced daily, without fail, their holders cleaned and shiny as the glistening morning rays penetrated the streak-less, practically invisible glass window.

Though, this night, the room instead of a pristine feel, felt cold, empty, the opposite of homely. The angled chairs and maintained library meant little to the chilling embrace of an Ishgard night, and the sterile appearance gave entrance to an unsettled eerie vibe. The room lie in a strange balance of lived in, and not, almost as if an apparition made itself home in the chamber instead of a Roegadyn man. To each their own taste, and for Brygym, it was a life of calculated, planned appearance, intentional placement, tireless care.

He had spent the day traversing the shroud, flinging the door open to his room, letting out a sigh before stepping in. It was the sigh of a weary traveler, one of calm, as he finally laid his eyes on a familiar, safe place. He reached around his back, procuring the same book he obtained from deep within Copperbell Mines as he walked over to his desk’s bare top, save a quill in ink on one side, and neatly stacked blank parchment on the other. He rested the book in the middle of the desk. Nodding, he walked over by his reading chair, taking the candlestick he had made prior, clean, fresh. A short mumble and a snap of his fingers brought the wick to light with a light crackle of lively flame. He moved his hand to gently cupping the flame, ensuring no surrounding elements snuffed it prematurely.

Brygym took the few steps back to his desk, the thick floorboards beneath grunting softly to his heavy step. He placed the candlestick on the desk, as the book’s binding and cover reflected the flame with the gold lining brilliantly. The reflection cascaded upon Brygym’s eyes as he placed a hand on the cover of the book. He stood in reflection a moment, recalling what lie between the covers of the tome. More importantly, what lie in the pages to seal that incredible evil. Time seemingly stood still as he felt the impression of the metal against his fingertips, the grooves of leather between them gently brushing against his digits. He heard, nor felt, any power left in the book.

“Father,” a voice called out from a corner of the room. Brygym swung his attention to the source of the voice, on alert. He lifted his hand from the tome.

“H...Haen, Gods, is that you..? You have your old man quite a scare.” Brygym squinted to see a shadow pass through the entry he had left open. As the figure moved, the sound of metal lightly pressing against metal emanated from the figure, as if they were clad in armor. As they approached the light, Brygym became at ease. A young Roegayn man came forth, nearly matching the appearance of Brygym measure of measure, save age. He had no facial hair, but a similar shorter, parted style to his thicker, dark brown hair. At his side was a sheathed sword, a shield bearing the Ishgardian emblem on his back.

“Father, I… I hope you don’t mind, I waited below in anticipation of your return.” he looked to the book on the table, tilting slightly. Brygym also leaned, obscuring his view. “Is… it true? About the DOS…?”

“What have you heard exactly, boy, and more importantly, from whom?” Brygym pulled the chair out from the desk, walking over to his reading chair with it, placing it beside the other chair. He sat in the reading chair, opening one hand in offering of the other seat. The young man nodded, and sat beside him.

“W-well, that’s…” he looked down, away from his father.

Brygym exhaled, shaking his head. “Of course. Haensyn. No need to go there, I assure you. A pity you were sent to do the dirty work. How goes training?”

Haensynd beamed with pride. “Today, I was top marks in defense combat!”

Brygym chuckled, bumping a fist on his son’s shoulder. “The best, you say? I daresay that is only because your old man isn’t there to test you himself. They must be getting soft!”

“Father!” he protested loudly, groaning in disbelief. Brygym put up his hand in surrender, looking down, exhaling.

There was a moment of pause before Brygym spoke again. “So, how is she?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“You’re an awful liar. Your mother, she sent you here. She told you about the mines this morning. She made you worry on my behalf. I am fine.”

“B-but father, you’re-”

Brygym leaned back in his chair, which creaked lightly, while he inhaled. He placed his head in his hands and rubbed his face, letting go as he spoke again. “She’s no business getting in the middle. Just as it has always been.”

“It wasn’t always this way. Not since she was elected… you left the home. You joined the DOS.”

“Haen, you know why I-”

“Father, I might know what your beliefs are, but you still stand alone in them,” Haensyn said as he stood. “She came to me knowing what comes next would no doubt impact me. She warned me.”

“Warned you? For what?” Brygym thought of the dangers within the book on his desk. He did his best to not glance in that direction.

“She is on the board which will decide the fate of the DOS. Lalieri will be before her and listen to all testimony to grant passage or dissolve the society,” he said, looking down at his father with an intense stare. Brygym looked on, a hand pulling at his beard.

“Are they not aware…?” he began. “This is certainly a conflict of interest, she would surely vote to…” he looked down, sullen. “I see.”

“It’s not too late, father. We can still-”

“That’ll be all, boy. I’d rather see you when you choose to, not when you are commanded to. Let us find in ourselves a real relationship, not one dictated by her presence. Off with ye, I know it’s your mess hall time anyway.”

“Father!”

Brygym stood, facing Haensyn. “My son, I…” he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “All I’ll say is… she is more than likely correct. However, I’d…” he paused, “I’d stay as far away as possible from this mess if I were you. Be a good boy. Finish your training.”

“I won’t! You’re… you’re never there! Not s-since ye-”

The elder Roegadyn took his other hand, making a fist, and drove it with slight force into the chest of the boy, with an “Oomph!” The boy cringed, gripping Brygym’s arm with plated gloves.

“F-father…”

Brygym stood, walking back to his desk, placing a hand on the smooth topside, facing away from his son. “Ye heard me. Off with ye. I promise, I’ll be around soon. I owe you much more than an apology, this I am certain, for missing your important time finding your calling.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Haensyn stood abruptly, marching out of the room, shutting the door with force behind him. After a few brief moments in deafening silence, Brygym sighed, looking down at the book once more, dimly glistening in the candlelight. He struck the desk with the bottom of his fist, grumbling.

“Gods… now I cannot rest until I know.” Brygym immediately followed his son from his chamber, yet his destination deviated from Haensyn’s, as he made for the opposite end of the hallway from his chamber door.

\---

Brygym turned off of a fairly large open drag of Ishgard’s lower level of Foundation, not far from Saint Valeroyant’s Forum, where the main entry for the Knights was. The night was no more welcoming than typical Ishgardian weather - though the stars lie on a massive canvas above him, the piercing winds that tested the mettle of his cloth and skin alike challenged him with every step. As a Roegadyn, it did little to sway his resolve, though he shielded his eyes a couple times in the most intense moments. Despite the constant repair that Ishgard was under, this particular side street appeared free of debris, the homes well kept from the outside.

Brygym looked upon one home with a small iron fence shielding a short walkway to a heavy, thick wooden door. Inside, he could see light and shadow, confirming someone was within. He looked up and down the cobblestone path to not a single soul - this hour was not known for bustle. He slowly pressed against the gate, which gave with only a single minor creak, as he stepped forward onto the passage and the front area. He stood a moment, looking to a small patch of earth, covered in snow, pensive.

“This is where Haen and I…” he chuckled to himself. “So many memories here. It’s haunting, really.” He drew a long breath, stepping to the door, knocking lightly on it three times. There was a long pause, but patiently Brygym waited. Eventually, an iron latch could be heard sliding from within, then giving with a thud as the door creaked open a few inches.

“Yes? Who is it?” a voice from within questioned. A figure was there, peering intently upon Brygym. Immediately, the voice responded as they locked eyes. “B...Brygym? Is it truly you? Gods, come in! I… w-well, come in! Sorry!” The door swung open to a living area, complete with fireplace set aglow, and a few lanterns and candles lighting the inside, illuminating a well-lived in space, complete with furniture, a desk, a couple tables, a bookshelf… Brygym felt his memories overwhelm him once more as he stepped inside.

“You’ve rearranged, Jurael.”

“Yes, well… in periods of change in our lives, sometimes it is best we do what might mitigate the impact. Sometimes memories can hurt the most.” A Roegadyn woman stood before him, a half-smile upon her still slightly confused face. Despite her demeanor being off-guard, she still appeared calm with a soft gaze in her dark blue eyes. Her pale, soft, grayish-blue skin reflected a soft warmth from the lights inside. Jurael’s dark lips parted as she moved a bit of dark hair from her face behind her ear, where other rogue strands of grey lined the long, thick style. It lie loose and down, save a messy braid behind in vain attempt to keep it contained.

“You are as beautiful as ever,” Brygym commented. Though it was a late hour, she was still dressed in formal Ishgard attire, country seal and all upon her lapel. The outfit was similar to Brygym’s black DOS outfit, save a skirt and looser-fitting sleeves that draped a bit more. The waistline also seemed a bit tighter, complimenting her figure more. “Working late? The life of justice never sleeping?”

“...Er, about that…” she seemed unsure of how to respond. Given how quickly she replied, Brygym knew he had struck a cord.

“My wife, I know it has been some time, but…” he suddenly realized what his bravery had cost. It had been months since they had last laid eyes on one another.

“Might I… draw some water for tea?” her eyes darted to and fro in his presence. She was unsure of how to react to her estranged husband being before her.`

“It will not be necessary. I think you understand why I have come. Why I needed to.” He attempted to speak with conviction.

She sighed, shutting her eyes with a light nod. “Haen. He came to you.”

“What would you expect? The boy seeks nothing more than a cordial peace between us.”

“Nay, he wishes for a real marriage between us.”

Silence swept the room with Jurael’s comment. They stared at one another, unable to continue where the conversation might next. Brygym was taken off-guard, knowing that the conversation might head in this direction, but so soon? Save the howling of an increasing wind beyond the window panes of the lower level, the thick air inside was refusing to settle.

Jurael finally continued, “One you cannot decide to let die or be merciful enough to end yourself with your signature.”

“Were things so simple to conclude with such tidings, I would have obliged long ago.”

“Truly? Yours is a lost purpose, Brygym. It has been too long, we both know what lies in our future together in partnership, or lack thereof.” Their eyes met. Brygym in stark concern, hers fighting an outward sadness.

“He is behind this, isn’t he?”

Jurael exhaled sharply and folded her arms, a strand of wavy hair falling in front of her face. “Such is irrelevant. You know the right process is random selection for those elected to judge-”

“As always, without a straight answer, I know you already mean to say he is. Of course he is.” Brygym shrugged, scoffing and shaking his head, dismissing the remainder of her sentence.

“He’s a great force in Ishgard, Brygym. You could not oppose him then as you more than likely aim to now! His choice to include me was an apt one as a preventative measure to keep you in check.”

“And you!? You fancy being a pawn in this political machine? We were supposed to run together to change justice in Ishgard, and yet, his propaganda served to drive us apart, then destroy me all the same. We were both pawns from the start, of this I am still ashamed, but only I was wise enough to walk away,” he pleaded to her.

The woman shook her head slowly. “You lost. That is why you ran. You find me selfish? Look at yourself, the same as always.” Jurael’s words sliced through Brygym’s soul effortlessly. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with one hand in frustration. She continued, “You had every chance to live out your days a homebody while I served the justice we both still aim to keep, Brygym, I…” She reached out her hand toward him.

”Like always, you aim to complicate my tidings into forcing me to be idle once more.” He turned away from her.

She continued forward, placing her hand on his forearm. He did not move still. “Put your pride aside you oaf! What of me!? What of Haensyn!?” Jurael pleaded to her husband. “The DOS is a lost cause! Were you not there when Lyniastas was recovered? Did you not witness the depth of Fi’Teri’s wounds? The lack of attention to the safety of Ishgard? You drain our resources to run across the realm doing whatever fits your fancy. Accountability was inevitable, be glad only one life-”

“She yet breathes, Jurael. Do not count her out. Fi’Teri is stronger than you could ever know.”

Her hand recessed from his firm skin. “A...Are you calling me… weak?”

“I am merely wishing you would see through this and realize your presence on this case is nothing more than a power play, a ruse to distract us all from serving the right justice for what has happened. Lyniastas aside, the danger we pursue is beyond any petty crime the knights follow within our borders. What we are in the wake of threatens far more. The DOS must continue. I merely came to beseech you to understand, yet it appears I was mistaken you would listen.” Brygym spoke, looking out the window at the flames dancing in the street lamps outside.

“Seems you’ve much to prove, then. Arvit has your jury pulling in a far different direction.”

“Arvit will not get as he wishes this time,” Brygym leaned over, peering at Jurael. “I have already lost you to him, I will not also lose the DOS to him as well.”

“Lost me? Surely, you understand I yet stand here, waiting for you to be the one to no longer be lost to me!”

“Until tomorrow, when you suck on the corrupt tit of Arvit once more, doing nothing to instill our promise to relieve Ishgard of the dark burdens in its justice system.”

“You continue to insult me and my allegiance. My ask of you is simple, and has not changed, my husband. Just stop this mess, and be here, at peace, with me…” Jurael stepped forward, pushing his arms away and embracing him. For a moment, Brygym groaned, but her familiar touch disarmed him quickly. Slowly, his arms returned the embrace back upon her. They stood, quietly, memories racing through both of their minds of times past, when these moments were found throughout the day, instead of so seldom now.

“Will you stay…?” Jurael said through a sob. Brygym looked down to see a single tear touch her nose and slowly flow down to her lips. “Please…”

“I…”

“Tonight, Gods, just tonight.” He felt her hands grip the fabric of his uniform tightly. “As Brygym, as my husband… not anything else… I want my husband… I’ve missed you...” she placed a shaky hand upon his cheek, swallowing her pride one last time.

Brygym glanced to the lamp outside, its flame still engaged in a frantic dance. He parted their embrace slightly so their eyes would meet. The pools of water at the base of hers glistened in the very flame outside as he looked upon them. Slowly, he leaned down, and as their lips drew closer, their eyes shut.

Outside, the wind began singing a howling tune, forcing the flame to billow out in a puff of smoke.

\---

“Tell me, healer, what have you learned?” Tien stood at the foot of a bed where Fi’Teri lie, eyes shut, lying listless, her breath barely present. They were within a small room of stone, illuminated by oil lamps contained in minimal glass enclosures. Nearby, various charts and reports lie on a small table next to the bed. A mage in white garb looked to a fresh parchment with a slightly contorted face, shrugging.

“There’s… been no change, sir.”

Tien looked down, placing a palm upon his forehead. Distressed, he glanced at the restless, unconscious Fi’Teri, her clenched shut eyes fluttering ever so slightly, implying a meager soul fighting to wake within.

“She’s in so much pain…” Tien muttered under his breath.

“Sir, that’s…” the mage shuffled through a few papers before going on, “I’ve at least one confirmation for you.”

Tien looked at them, a bit of hope upon his eyes. The mage licked their lips, parted slightly, considering their words.

“She might… never wake.” They had no better delivery, so they decided on a forward statement.

Tien looked upon the mage, a common Elezen man, for quite some time. The mage looked back, nodding slightly after the thick air of the room became unbearable. “I’ll… send updates if anything else comes about.” He shuffled from the small chamber with haste.

Tien did not move. A minute passed. Perhaps an hour. Time became lost to him in that moment. Without windows in the chamber itself, his bearings had already been slightly compromised for time, yet now it seemed to become more ambiguated still. He finally found the nerve to gaze upon her once more, her condition unchanged.

“I might… never hear her voice again…? What hell have we come to know in the harm that has been done…?”


	18. His Atonement, Her Frustrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyniastas is called before the court to be held accountable for his alleged crime. An old friend makes contact to attempt to help.

An Ishgardian courtroom is about as one would expect. The ornate stonework surrounding the room matches the grand scale of the vaulted ceilings and tall windows lined with stained glass designs. The back of the room had seating in the form of pews for a few rows, divided by a small open walkway that led to two massive double doors of solid, lighter wood that matched the pews. The ends of the pew rows even had a burned woodwork paisley design.

Past the pews was a short wooden rail, with two large desks on the sides of the room that tilted slightly toward the center, a bit of space between, no doubt to ease the tension that might come between parties in the legal process. The desks faced a large, elevated podium that stood three yalms above any other seat in the room. On both sides, there were two additional, small podiums, attached to the larger one, accessible from stairs on both sides. The tallest seat had a door directly behind it. The massive wooden arrangement had an ornate Ishgardian seal on the front, and above the door, one large flag of Ishgard lined the walls, with four different colored banners, two per side, each representing a high house.

An Elezen man in common court attire stood on the podium to the right of the tallest one, reading from a parchment in silence. In the room, Lyniastas stood in front of one table, his hands and feet bound by chains. He looked tired and unclean. His hair was disheveled, his fingernails caked with dirt. He no longer wore the DOS uniform, but a worn, common brown tunic and pants. As the man spoke, Lyniastas did not look up, his eyes fixated on the floor, distracted.

At the opposite desk, another Elezen hurried about many documents spread about the table. He had one in his hand while he scanned another with his brown eyes in his other hand through small reading glasses. He was a bit aged, light wrinkles forming on the sides of his lips, pursed in a frown. The Elezen’s longer, black hair had shades of grey piercing through as it hung loose around his head. He wore an outfit popular with those in the high houses - a plush, velvet robe tight-fitting with fur embroidering the sides and collar. Two soldiers stood by Lyniastas, next to an additional door that he entered from. The hallway beyond was tied to the prison cell he had been staying in. One soldier, clad head to toe in plate, did not avert their gaze from him. Though their face was obscured by metal, he could feel their eyes prying him apart.

Behind Lyniastas, Brygym and Lalieri sat in a pew together in the back of the room, gazing upon him in distress. They would look to one another before they were called to rise, whispering on occasion. Tien was also there, fidgeting to himself on the opposite side, his feet tapping as he would gaze upon Lyniastas and shake his head. Ahead of him, just behind the older Elezen man, Jurael sat patiently. The Elezen man had leaned back a couple times, presenting a document to her, pointing to a particular passage with questions she would answer. At one point, she gazed back to lock eyes with Brygym for a moment in a faint smile, before turning around again to return to her other task.

“You saw her,” Lalieri whispered to him. “You finally had it in you to go.”

“Shh!” Brygym raised a hand moving it up and down lightly, in a request for her lower her tone. “What I do outside of work is… it’s…”

“I’m not upset, Brygym,” Lalieri smiled at him. “I think it is good you are finally addressing that loose end in your life. No matter how it resolves,” she nodded.

“She’s… I may have forgot to mention this to you, but…” Brygym threaded his fingers together nervously, his mouth twisted, unsure of how to speak.

“But what?” Lalieri’s golden eyes fixated on his, a concern building.

The Elezen man on the lower podium stood. “All rise in the presence of our great Judge proceeding this case number ID-3802686, High House Haillenarte versus Lyniastas Rhullier, the venerable Count Metricas.”

The door behind the tallest, middle podium creaked open. Yet another Elezen came forth, clad in a light plate armor that had a cloth sash wrapped around one shoulder and around the waist. He had short, grey hair combed to one side. His pale blue eyes gazed upon the courtroom below, watching as everyone stood to his coming. After a moment, he nodded, bidding them to take a seat with a hand gesture. Lyniastas remained standing in front of his desk, as was par with those under arrest in Ishgard.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I trust we are ready to begin, Arvit?” Count Metricas nodded toward the Elezen opposed to Lyniastas in the symmetrical room.

“Yes… Judge, we are prepared.” Arvit paused reading the end of a document, then took off his glasses and looked up at Count Metricas. The Judge looked upon the downtrodden Lyniastas, who did not look back up at him.

“Lyniastas, have you anything to add before we begin?”

He did not reply. After a moment, Count Metricas continued, “Right, then… clerk, would you state the case please?”

“Yes, Judge. Today, we are here to discuss the preliminary case for High House Haillenarte versus Lyniastas Rhullier, the house charged with the prosecution in this case. House Haillenarte has been decided due to the volunteering of Arvit Jervaillen to oversee the case. Lyniastas Rhullier is charged with assault and attempted murder against Fi’Teri, unknown last name, a soldier in employ of Ishgard, a member of the Dravanian Occult Society. Fi’Teri is currently in a coma, but alive, and since she cannot represent herself, law dictates that a High House is able to oversee the prosecution if need be. For these reasons, Arvit Jervaillen will be representing the prosecution.”

In the back of the room, Tien grunted and shook his head, looking upon Lyniastas. As he grumbled, Lalieri shot him a glare, which he took note of to control his mood.

“It’s not typical that a high house jumps at the opportunity to spend some time in court, Arvit. I trust there is a guiding purpose behind your enthusiasm here? Be mindful, I am not complaining, typically I have to bend a good many ears to get the high houses to stand where you are.”

“Yes, Judge. I am here mostly because I understand the… delicate nature of the work the DOS does, as my brother formerly led the DOS himself. I have followed their work for a long time, either in assistance to my brother, or in admiration of the staff and their achievement, so I am well aware of the names and evidence present in this case.” Arvit spoke with a smooth, thick proper accent, waving one arm to and fro as he spoke eloquently and precisely.

Brygym sighed, cracking his knuckles, feeling Arvit’s words slice through him. Lalieri hit his thigh with her small fist to silence him as well, her glare unforgiving.

“Aye, the late Ser Jervaillen… I am still sorry for your loss. Ishgard put to memory a great man.”

Lyniastas licked his dry lips. For a moment, he was called back to that night in a hazy memory. He quickly shook it off and cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Judge. Regardless, I am a bit more open than usual, cases are light, and Jurael has been kind enough to assist, so I assumed we might expedite justice for once in this city and eliminate as much red tape as possible. It is as she envisioned, after all, that Ishgard might know swift justice, and quick, everlasting peace.”

“Noble indeed, Arvit, Jurael. We owe House Haillenarte a bit of debt for your service, it seems.”

“It is an honor to simply serve, Judge. There is no ulterior motive.”

“Aye.”

“As for the case, the process enough is very simple. House Haillenarte aims to prove that Lyniastas shot Fi’Teri in the early morning five days ago, and was caught by his peers holding the very weapon that shot her. We will provide evidence through testimony that Lyniastas was seen holding the weapon, which had been freshly fired. We will also provide proof that the bullet recovered from Fi’Teri’s body matches the type used in the weapon. Finally, we will also provide the damages incurred thus far as a result of the incident, so that Fi’Teri will know the proper care and recourse, but also that whatever you, Judge, deem necessary as punishment for the crime, it is fitted to the full atrocity that has been committed. We will aim

“Very well. And for you, Lyniastas, what do you aim to provide the court?”

Again, Lyniastas did not speak.

“You’ve every right not to provide a rebuttal, boy, the burden of proof is on Arvit and House Haillenarte, but at least be formal with me and grant me words enough to know you have naught to add.”

“No.” Lyniastas muttered, looking to the floor still.

“Well enough.” Count Metricas looked upon a parchment before him, taking a quill from beneath the

“Now, Arvit, am I to understand that you are also overseeing an additional case involving the DOS? You speak of no ulterior motive, I might just ask for some perspective as it appears otherwise. I have been asked regarding this, and since this case is on my docket as well as yours, I need an answer.”

Arvit paused, placing a hand on his desk, looking upon the organized chaos of documents before him. “Of… course your honor. I understand that an explanation is in order. Your concerns are well-placed. However, I might add further perspective. I had agreed to take this prosecution before being selected as an authority to Ishgard’s funding of all subdivisions of the Knights, Judge. This means I had elected to represent in this case, before due process subpoenaed me to also represent the pending case which involves one of those subdivisions, the Dravanaian Occult Society. My election to serve came prior to my calling need to due to my role in our grand city. This is why I have happened upon both. And as you state, Judge, here we are, already proceeding with affairs in this case, to remove me now only greatly prolongs what we might accomplish otherwise…”

“That’ll be quite enough,” Count Metricas nodded. “You’ve proved your point, Arvit. So you will stand to represent on this case, no objection from me.”

Arvit slowly smirked, glancing upon Lyniastas. “Indeed, Judge, I only aim to serve judgement where it is due.”

“Right, right. Since we are entered the end of a week, it appears we will recess until the beginning of the next, in three days time. Court dismissed.” Count Metricas stood, bowing before the court, all of its inhabitants standing and bowing in return, save Lyniastas. The Judge took one last look upon him in concern before turning back to the door behind. The two soldiers took toward the prisoner, motioning him onward toward the side door back to his cell. He followed obediently, the door shutting behind them. Arvit turned to Jurael, nodding and engaging her in discussion.

Tien stood, “Judgement cannot come more swift,” he spoke aloud. This interrupted Arvit, who gazed upon Tien a moment, then toward Brygym and Lalieri in wonder, then back at Tien. Tien looked to his hand as his chest clenched to a fist, his tight lips containing his frustrations.

Lalieri’s eyes darted about those left in the room. “Tien! Mind your tongue. Are you not returning to Fi’Teri’s side?” Lalieri interjected to break the silence.

“Hmph.” Tien turned, placing the fist on one of the large double doors behind the pews, thrusting it open and storming out. Brygym immediately rose and followed, calling him from outside, his objections falling on deaf ears as Tien continued to walk away unphased. Lalieri buried her head in her hands in silence.

\---

Lyniastas trudged along, keeping a slow pace with bound hands and feet. One soldier walked ahead of him, guiding them down hallway after bare hallway. There was also a second soldier behind, ensuring he did not slip away. After the same predictable bends they took to get the room, they arrived where he began his day - a collection of dark cells behind a large, thick wooden door. Lyniastas took note of an additional security the door provided he did not see earlier - a long iron slat resting against the wall that matched a groove and hole in the door itself. The slat slid into the groove, which then rested against the stone wall on both sides of the door, preventing it to be opened or shut. Whoever they keep in these types of rooms, they are not meant to get out, or see much. In Lyniastas’ time training and serving in the guard, he never had seen such security.

The front soldier opened the large door, and the soldier behind pushed Lyniastas into the chamber. Within the door, four small cells were in a row, separated by walls of uneven stone slab. The front of the cells were thick vertical iron bars, with a horizontal support bar ever yalm. The second soldier from behind motioned to the first, waving them off. “I got him,” they said. The soldiers nodded and one was off.

Lyniastas already knew, the corner cell on the left was his. He walked over to it and entered without need of an order, standing inside, awaiting the door to shut behind him. Moments later, he heard the footsteps of the second soldier, who shut the door behind them, then shut the door to the cell, locking it with a heavy scree-thunk of the bolt latching into place. Lyniastas paused a moment in silence. Why did the soldier close the door to chamber of cells behind them? He was used to being left alone at this point. He peered around, feeling the same glaring eyes upon him that were in the courtroom.

For a time, the soldier merely stood there, facing him. The meager light in the room came from windows on the walls outside of the cells, which were also barred. In a faint glimmer of light, he could see the whites of a pair of eyes, fixated upon him. Uncomfortable, he stared back, awaiting what might come of this silent exchange. Nervousness settled in over a time, as he knew the rules in the guarding of a criminal, this was definitely not in the handbook.

“S...sir, if I might ask, have you business with me? I bid you leave,” he said quietly, finally feeling the weight of this meeting too daunting for him. Lyniastas awaited reply, and received none. Still, the soldier looked upon him, their eyes raining pressure upon him he had not known yet.

“Hmph,” he said after a time, shimmying to a corner of his cell, leaning against it, his side facing the front where the soldier stood. “Not much to this view, stare all ye like.”

“I’ve done the research, I’ve had my share of reading what I just cannot believe. You speak of business? Let us convene.” Lyniastas found the voice behind the helmet was feminine. He looked over, watching the soldier place their hands on their head, turning the helmet slightly, and pulling it upward. A female Elezen’s facade came from beneath. She was a duskwight, her face a soft, pale white save a single beauty mark below her right eye on her cheek. Her glaring bright green eyes contrasted her reddish hair seen from her bangs, the tip of her hair a golden yellow. The rest of her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. Her pursed, dark red lips shook lightly, fighting to find the words to speak to her prisoner behind the bars to the cell. “If only I knew the first question to ask you about how this all came to be.”

Lyniastas squinted a moment, but between the voice and the face, he nodded, then buried his face in his hands. “You. Of all people. You know so little, I do not know where to begin.” He did not look back at her, sighing heavily with a few breaths in succession.

The Elezen woman’s mouth went agape as raised a hand into a fist, slamming the plate armor on her forearm against the bars of the cell, which rang tirelessly in his ears, causing him to wince, gripping his ears. “Years! Years it has been, and this is all you’ve found to say to me!?”

“Periaux, you-” Lyniastas mutterered, raising his hands.

She slammed the bars again, gritting her teeth. He covered his ears once more a moment. “Lyn! Do you even understand how it sounds as Meshia’s best friend to have to read the terrible things in that report!? How long did you plan to go before you told me? Before you found me!? I could have helped you! I could have requested-” Periaux trembled, her words coming out in uneven tempo. Her eyes began to well.

“I need to stop you right there, before you lose yourself. I’ll admit fault here. I know better than to stand in the way of your will.”

“Then why!?” She gripped the bars, her anger and frustration realizing full influence on her expression.

“It was two things. One, I… things were happening so fast, I could not find the time. I’m almost glad there are bars between us in me saying that, as, you’ll always tell me it would not have been long to find it. Perhaps you’re right. Once you were through training, it would have been quite the matter to find and request an audience. Considering this was Meshia we were speaking of… that she was alive, that she was… a murderer, I…” Lyniastas looked down, losing his own composure a moment. Periaux swallowed, realizing her forwardness was not helping the situation. After a moment, she sighed, lowering her hands, resting her forehead between two bars.

“So it is true.” Periaux bit her lower lip, shaking her head.

“Secondly, Lalieri was working us like crazy. Rightfully so, I might add. I hadn’t a moment to myself, nor did I wish for one.”

“Meshia is really a killer…?”

Lyniastas did not reply, nor did he make eye contact.

“Lyn!”

“Peri, if I told you everything, it will only make things worse for you. I’m sorry. Believe me when I say, you are at your best staying as far away from me, and from this, as possible.”

“And you! What do you have to say for yourself? Fi’Teri, the gun, the attempted murder? You are fish in a barrel next to Arvit, he will slay you where you stand in there if you do not press him to cease.”

Lyniastas turned away from her. “I cannot speak to that.”

“What in hells happened to you all!? You run off and nearly die in Bahamut’s fury, we assumed for sure Meshia had not survived… she… G-Gods, she’s alive, Lyn, I… we had a ceremony for losing her… w-we…” Periaux brought a hand to her face to wipe a tear away.

“I know.”

“Have you seen her? Is all of this pure wild conjecture? Arvit is known to stretch a point of view to draw a lesser, but still condemning truth out of a defense.”

He considered his words. “Her body yet draws breath, Periaux. This I know now.”

“You waste your time, then. You can win this case. Your choice not to and waste away in that room to be sliced to bits is your decision. I will not let her suffer a day longer, so help me.”

“What will you do, Periaux, apply to the DOS? Save the world?” Lyniastas offered a sarcastic laugh. This brought her to a boil once more.

“And what will you do? You’ve killed her once, and here you are, insufferable, alone, allowing whatever dark force exists in her to do it once more. You never deserved her!”

“I know.”

“And what of Fi’Teri!? How many lives will you leave in your wake, Lyn!? All for what!?” Periaux’s voice a raging inferno to his conscience, Lyniastas held up one hand, turning to face her again.

“I know. I know…”

As their eyes met, she snarled and looked away. “There is so much we could have done. We can still do. I’m disgusted that before me is a man too stuck in his failure to finally do something right in his life. I cannot believe we both once loved you. I can only imagine her standing here now, berating you over my death, as we know she would.”

He did not reply.

“I knew not what to expect, but I found something much worse. Hydaelyn herself might know no salvation for you now, Lyn. Do yourself a favor and know how to present yourself next week. I know you all too well. You sit in that room, without a care in the world, because this will finally force you to atone for the atrocities you have imposed on her. You want the accountability. You want it to liberate you.”

He felt his chest tighten. He felt his breath escape him.

Periaux shook her head at him in his sorry state. “Pathetic. You know the right thing to do is to do what can save Meshia best. This will be the only thing that does her justice now.”

He choked on words, unable to speak, looking to the floor.

“She can yet be saved. I’m sure you’ve not yet proven you can, but you’ve also not yet proven that you cannot. Stay in this cell, allow Arvit his way in court, and you will prove that you cannot for certain.”

He slumped to his knees, feeling his labored breaths taking over.

“Still nothing?” Periaux raised both of her arms. “I am beside myself the man who defined my standards of men now sits before me a cretin. Be as you are, Lyniastas, alone. Where you have lost your will, I have found mine. Lalieri will be sick of me soon enough in serving the DOS.”

“There won’t be a DOS, soon. Not anymore…”

“Not the DOS teamed by those not willing to fight for those they apparently loved, no. Should you lose your backbone, the DOS will have no place for you. Ishgard won’t. Eorzea won’t. I expect you a different man next week. The man I once knew. I’ve nothing more for you. This may be the last chance you get to save her. Do it with me, after this, or not at all. The choice is yours.”

Lyniastas offered no reply as Periaux took her helm and drew it over her face, sliding it into place and turning it slightly to lock its position. She turned toward the door, stopping one last time to hear if he could offer any more conversation, which he did not. She opened the door slowly, still waiting a moment, before letting out a “Hmph!”

The heavy oak door creaked and slammed against the weathered rocks of the prison chamber. Periaux’s loud muttering could be heard on the other side of the door as she stood guard, going on to herself about Lyniastas. Once in awhile, she would slam her fist or kick her foot against the wall or ground, which made a booming echo in the room containing the cells. Her muffled protests over his behavior were nothing more than words on the other side of the door to him, as she never returned and left when the guard changed.

Lyniastas took a bit of solace in seeing his old friend speak, hearing her clamour on as she always had in the past, when they were young. Periaux was always the perfect balance to Meshia growing up, he recalled. Where Meshia was carefree and calm, Periaux was always ready with another grand idea and imposing her beliefs whenever she had the opportunity. They were quite the duo to experience, yet, they always only knew the enjoyment of each other’s company.

After a short time reminiscing, Lyniastas sighed, returning to the present. He continued to say nothing because he knew that there was no evidence of the contrary. Deep in his heart, he wanted this. He wanted to be punished for all Meshia has had to endure due to his decisions years ago.

“The less I say, the more I might extend the legal process, I believed,” he thought to himself. “Arvit thinks he expedites a process, but save his representation, he cannot. I’ve no means to bar it, save making proceedings difficult. Perhaps then, I can find a solution to what has been done. Perhaps Periaux has a point.”

After a short rest in the cell, he woke again, to his thoughts.

“I cannot rely that Fi’Teri will ever wake. Even then, I question whether it absolves any of what occurred that night. We may never come to know what is truly at work here. I suppose the best I might do now is to fight still, no matter how different a form it might take here.”


	19. Tien - A passage of time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tien is given a proposition after his past is laid bare. Just how serious is this new threat to the DOS?

_ "Gods,” _ Tien thought to himself as he returned to the ward where Fi’Teri lie.  He was climbing a flight of creaky wooden stairs inside.  He peered out a window, and noted the sun escaping its responsibility for the day, creeping slowly behind a mountainside.  It had been a long day, first the courts, then Lalieri demanded he return to the DOS office and file his outstanding work.  He was not one for deskwork, and in light of circumstances, he had hoped to evade it, but even now, Lalieri maintained her poise in doing the job right.  He shook his head, his optimism fading as he placed his hand on the doorknob to the ward.

  
_ “Gods,”  _ he said again to himself.   _ “As if I should expect anything to change,”  _ he looked at his hand placed on the knob.   _ “She will still be asleep.  There will be even more charts lining the walls.  It will be still.  Silent.  I… I am just unsure of how much longer I might bear not hearing her voice.” _

 

He turned the knob and tugged lightly on the door, which gave to his strength and swung open with little effort.  He stepped through into another hallway, lined with doors and glass windows.  In the center of the hallway, there was a large desk and an open space, where various people spoke with one another in white garb.  Tien trudged through the corridor, stopping at the third door on the left.  The curtains were drawn on the window, and a light shone from within.  Looking to the window, he allowed himself one last moment of respite before entering.  He peered at the drawn curtain, his attention drawing to dancing shadows within.  He gasped, bursting through the door.

 

“F-Fi’Teri!?” he exclaimed.  A man at the foot of her bed jumped slightly, meeting eyes with him.  Fi’Teri still lie in her bed, unmoving.  Tien let out a disappointed sigh once more, but looked upon the man.  He recognized him - it was Arvit, from the court earlier today.  He had a few papers in his hands, charts, in an attempt to better understand her condition.

 

“Good evening, Tien.” Arvit smiled calmly, tilting his head.  His thick glasses obscured his face slightly, but his greeting was genuine.

 

Tien, still suspicious, lifted a hand slightly, waving it.  Many questions stirred within him.  “Hoy, Arvit, was it?  I… did not expect to be in your company here, of all places.”

 

Arvit nodded, moving a hand up to his glasses and re-positioning them.  “Aye, must seem strange, I am sure.  Alas, justice never sleeps, son.  I am simply here to better understand her condition in the event I need to speak to it in court.”

 

“That’s… right.”  Tien felt conflicted.  Why was a house noble so personally interested in the happenings of the DOS?  He attempted to move the conversation.  “I aim to be here when she wakes.  She deserves someone she knows and trusts to be here at all times.”

 

“I can sense your misunderstandings.  Know that I only aim to serve justice where it is due, lad.  Lyniastas is the one who harmed this lass, no doubt.  He deserves his sentence as a result.”

 

“I don’t question justice, Arvit,” Tien responded quickly.  “It has all just been so much.  I have not had the time to process such, as my time is devoted to her.” He walked over to the bedside, taking his familiar seat beside her, taking her hand in his.

 

Arvit gazed upon his hand, raising an eyebrow.  He let out a “ _ Hmm.”  _ and continued.  “However, I would be lying if I said I was here for her alone.  I recall quite an outburst in the court stating you yourself wish for swift justice.  Perhaps this is to help you cope as well?  Or… is there something more?”

 

“What do you mean?” Tien looked upon Fi’Teri, not paying Arvit much mind.  Arvit shrugged slightly, moving to the other side of the bed, taking a second seat opposing Tien.  He crossed his legs, placing the papers on the bed on her leg, and folded his hands over his knee.

 

“Well, are you not in constant opposition to Lyniastas?  Surely, to see him suffer, brings you a sense of achievement.” Arvit leaned his head down slightly, looking straight at Tien.  His lips became pursed as the warm smile faded.

 

“What?  N-Nothing like that, I respect Lyn a great deal.  Rather, I did…” Tien looked to Fi’Teri’s calm, unmoving face. 

 

“Hmph.  The circumstances have changed and yet you struggle to keep up.  Attempted murder is right in front of you.  See this for what it is, see Lyniastas for what he is too, Tien.  It will make things all the easier in the long run.”

 

“You really will see him behind bars?”

 

“You are closer to the evidence than most, Tien.  You see how this all looks.”

 

Tien sighed.  A moment of silence filled the room.  Tien observed Fi’Teri’s short breaths.  Arvit produced a document from within his lapel and folded it open.  After a moment reviewing, he spoke.  “It appears that betrayal really isn’t a new thing for you, Tien Naharo, is it?  I mean, with where you’ve been.” Arvit’s smile returned, this time conniving and cruel.

 

Tien nearly choked on his breath and glared at Arvit.  “Wh-What nonsense is this?  My dedication to the DOS is infallible.”

 

Arvit shook his head.  “Aye, it’s not that I question, I have looked over your excellent service to Ishgard and could find no wrong, save coming second to Lyniastas in your class’ melee tournament.”

 

“Then what…?”

 

“Ala Mhigo.”

 

Tien’s lips pursed.

 

“That’s where you from, is it not?”

 

“I remember naught from that early in my childhood.  I spent most of it making refuge in Southern Thanalan, with many others displaced by the empire’s reckoning of our homeland.” 

 

“How strange it is, then, that an able bodied soldier like you is not on that front, seeking to restore your former glory?  Yet, you sit here before me in the unrelenting north, playing with your fate amongst demons.  What would bring a man so entwined in a conflict between the empire and a broken kingdom to be in a place where neither have influence?”

 

“Arvit, what is your intention here?”

 

The Elezen’s wicked smile grew to bear teeth.  “Alas, I came seeking leverage in my case, of course. In both of them.  I came seeking knowledge of Fi’Teri’s worsening condition, and I came seeking you.”

 

“W-Worsening?” Tien leaned in.  “Tell me what you know!”

 

Arvit sighed.  “Already so quick to her defense… surely, love is blind.  Tien, there is no changing the outcome of what might be for Fi’Teri.  The best Ishgard has to offer are already claimed for her aid.  Stay all you like, but you are only doing so for your own volition, not hers.  Do not confuse the two.”

 

“Y-You…” Tien struggled to speak.  Arvit was beneath his skin, knocking him off balance in the conversation.

 

“Back to what I was saying.  In the approach for what might be in this case, I took the liberty of ensuring all I needed to when it came to the DOS.  This included a bit of research on you.  Imagine my surprise when all Ishgard knew of you was that you suddenly came around one day in your early teens, looking to enlist in our military ranks, only to find you had no citizenship to do so.  So, what is an eager young man to do?”  Arvit looked to the unfolded parchment before him.  “Ah, yes.  Show up anyway.  You had no right training as a soldier for our wonderful city, yet you arrived still.  I assume you had hoped your prowess would suffice in itself?”

 

“I wished to serve.  Nothing more,” Tien said under his breath.  He looked at Arvit with an intense gaze, his amber eyes containing an increasing rage.

 

“Ah, a noble cause indeed.  One that convinced a great many to allow you the ability to!  Of course, there were concerns… ‘Where did he come from?’  ‘Were he a spy, what would he gain?’  ‘Should a boy be so broken his only purpose is to serve the knights?’”

 

“Ishgard has taken many street rat to serve.  I was another to that number in the end.”

 

“Ah, yes, Tien, you played that role well.  However, I was more interested into your real history.  Back to Ala Mhigo.”

 

“You know nothing!” Tien raised his voice slightly toward the elezen, who simply raised one hand to perch a bit of greying black hair behind his ear.  Arvit shook his head slowly.

 

“Oh, Tien.  If only.”

 

“My past... does not define who I am now.”

 

“Perhaps not, but again, I merely offer it to you as it is parallel to what you deal with now.  And how I wish to bring this cycle to justice for you, much like it couldn’t the first time.”

 

Tien paused, listening.  Arvit continued.

 

“If only you were the only Naharo of note in existence.  Alas, there is another, no?  One that knows betrayal to a much greater degree, from personal experience…”

 

“H-How!?” Tien leaned back, swallowing hard.  “This is impossible…!” The once quiet air in the room became thick, suffocating Tien as Arvit spoke every word.

 

“I think I have found out more, Tien Naharo, and my, my… the intensity the name Naharo brings to many.  There is, of course, your service to Ishgard.  You are a champion of light, committed to your cause in doing what is best.  Aye, you’re leaving quite a legacy here, I’ll admit.  There is a bright future for you.”

 

Arvit folded the sheet, placing it back into his lapel.  “But say that name to anyone who knows the events that unfolded in the fall of Ala Mhigo, and it is a name cast in the same light as demons… the very type you yourself hunt now, no?”

 

Tien said nothing, gazing upon Arvit in murderous rage.  This empowered Arvit to go on.  “It appears two decades ago, a man who once championed the banner of Ala Mhigo had quite the loose lips toward the Garleans… permitting them access to information that made them formidable in their assault of your homeland.  He was paid handsomely for his service to the cause, and, had he not been discovered… My, my, talk about getting away with murder.  Quite literally, in fact.”

 

The elezen went on, rubbing his chin.  “‘To provide for my son!’ He contested among his peers.  Instantly, he gave away every gil to the stranded survivors of the catastrophic destruction.  But would any Ala Mhigan be satiated with such?  Of course not.  Last I heard, he barely escaped with his life, and he was last seen fleeing to the north, undoubtedly bound for a land he could not be recognized, discovered, held accountable… how convenient that in due time, Ishgard would close its gates entirely.  What an opportunity for a fugitive to live a quiet, humble life.”

 

Tien buried his head in his hands.  “I am at a loss.  I have no idea how you… I...”

 

Silence again took the room for a minute.  Arvit spoke again, as calm as ever.  “Druain Naharo.  Goodness, merely speaking the name in Thanalan to any Highlander, and you will be spat on.  Granted, that made the discovery of this information difficult, to say the least…”

 

Tien cringed as he spoke the name.  He spoke with his head still gripped in his palms.  “So, what?  Are you going to remove me from my post?  Denounce me an honorary citizen of Ishgard in service to the Holy See?  Now you know I share none of your beliefs.  I share none of  _ his _ either, that much is certain.  I merely aim to find my father and serve to make amends for my country.  For my family’s name.  I still have a mother who suffers endlessly in Little Ala Mhigo.  I have a sister, I…” Tien stood, the chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor.  He paced frantically in the small room.  Eventually, he placed an angry fist into the wall with a  _ thud _ , feeling a swelling of frustration come over him.  “It appears my delusions have caught up with me.  The knights may be a thing of prestige, but… it has been years, and nothing!  If… If you’ve come to tear the DOS apart from the inside, you wanted to start with me, I… I understand.  Do what you must, it changes nothing in my purpose, I will find my father, I will avenge Ala Mhigo!” A  _ thud _ filled the room again as Tien’s fist met the wall.

 

Arvit stood, raising one hand calmly.  “Be at peace, Tien.  I did not come here for blackmail.  I came here for opportunity.”

 

“What?  Opportunity?  You speak lies.”  Tien looked to him, confused.

 

“I do no such thing.  I’ve already found out so much regarding your past.  Help me serve justice to Lyniastas, help me understand the truth behind the actions of the DOS, and understand… House Haillenarte has incredible influence over this realm.  Druain Naharo’s secrets will be naught in this land.  There is not a single stone we cannot turn in Ishgard.”

 

“You wish to end the DOS?  What of the voidsent threat?  I’ve witnessed with mine own eyes, Elezen, what evils roam this realm.  Must you truly disassemble a force capable of handling that threat?  I was in the home the same night Ser Jervaillen, your brother, and even your niece… this is a darkness that knows no quarter.  We seek nothing but vengeance for your late brother.”

 

“There are many means to an end regarding justice for Ser Jervaillen.  We have the means to continue the offense, Tien, just with a more concentrated means… let Ishgard handle the scale and force necessary to combat the voidsent threat you have uncovered.  Release yourself of your duty to to the city, and be armed with the means to find your lost father.  We can all come out of this better for it, should you choose to help me.”

 

“Help you?”

 

“I only aim to do the right thing for Ishgard.  Assist me in this, and I will return that in kind with information that will lead you right to Durain Naharo.”

 

Tien looked at Fi’Teri, quivering, short of breath, in her bed.  Arvit nodded, continuing.  “To give justice for Fi’Teri.  Be happy that Lyniastas’ betrayal only meant the harm of one.  Just imagine if time had passed, if he were able to do what you father once did to Ala Mhigo then.  This time, you have the means to bring betrayal to serve its crime.”

 

“I understand your terms, Elezen.  I only ask you leave me to consider.  We should retire until I’ve had time to decide.”

 

“Of course, of course, Tien.  I would only wish for you to be committed to your fate.  Of all members of the DOS, I know that you are worth your purpose more than any other.  You deserve the chance to return home with your head high.  Use this opportunity to do so.”

 

With his last words, Arvit stood, bowing to Tien, and parted from the room.  Tien stood still for a few minutes, in deep thought.  He grunted, returning to his seat, taking Fi’Teri’s hand in his again.

 

“If only you were here, to guide my hands.  You would surely know what must be done…”

 

Tien laughed after a quiet moment.

 

“Only after you whooped me for keeping a secret from you for once,” he chuckled.  “Fi’Teri, please… come back to me.  I know naught how to proceed now.”

 

…

 

Arvit opened the door to his desk chamber, the glow of a handle in his hands.  He shut the door behind him, only after cautiously examining the hallway the chamber lie on both ways.  He latched the door shut, locking it behind him.  He turned with a wry grin, walking towards his desk.  A mountain of books and bookshelves that stood at least five yalms high surrounded the room, save space for a tall, paned window on both sides.

 

Arvit walked around the desk to the seating side, procured a key from around his neck on a string, and placed it within a hole on the left side.  He turned the key slowly, feeling the latch within give way.  He placed the same hand on the drawer next to the lock, and tugged, slowly opening the wooden enclosure.

 

“Soon, Lyniastas will be in your hands.  We will have our revenge...”

 

Arvit sat, placing both hands in the drawer, lifting a tome that strained his strength beneath its weight.  As the tome rose into the candles’ light, the surface reflected a brilliant blue, with silver etchings and linings around the spine.  He placed the book upon a bare spot in the center of his desk.

 

Arvit paused.  “Yes, yes, I will be sure that he is executed right before you, eh… heh heh…” His composure continued to leave him as he spoke.  The candle flickered from an unknown force as he continued to mumble, alone in the room.

 

“Oh, wise Granfaguth, I do understand.  Bring you Lyniastas, he who has slayed you this cycle, and have him executed, thus releasing you back into the fray, so we might… we-!” The Elezen was overcome with a laughing fit, unable to contain an uncontrollable giddiness.

 

“They were certainly unwise to leave your tome behind when my brother passed, they were so foolish then!  Phyglithe is dead, we are closing in on Yggmathlin… soon, we can find the means to rule Eorzea, then continue our campaign to the circles of hell when we move to join the two together!  Your knowledge of where the rest might lie will serve invaluable in finally ending your vicious cycle of waiting in our realm.”

 

He paused, then continued.  “Of  _ course _ I have things under control.  I have them torn apart from the inside out.  Brygym cannot contain his emotions toward his estranged wife.  Tien took the bait about his father with no resistance, Fi’Teri is on her last limb based on the most recent reports, Lyniastas is behind bars… why, Lalieri has not a single friend in this world at the moment.  There is no one left to account for that can save her, or the pitiful Dravanian Occult Society.”

 

Arvit listened in the cold silence of the night a moment.  “I know!  Sometimes I impress even myself.  It is as if I don’t even need your power!  I’ve enough just-”

 

He paused, his smile disappearing from his face.  “Y-Yes, Master Granfaguth.  I understand.”

 

“I… I, alright, I…”

 

“It won’t happen again.  I will keep you updated.  I’ve much to do.”

 

Arvit placed the book back in his desk, locked it, and retired from the chamber with haste.


	20. Prologue to judgement: Her final impression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lalieri's frustrations grow over the evidence against them. Two encounters make a massive turn in events for Lyniastas and the DOS.

The DOS main meeting room was set to a soft glow, a few candles lightly swaying to and fro to the minimum of disturbance in the chamber.  The long, wooden tables’ glossy sheen reflected the embers.  At the end, Lalieri had taken her usual spot, many scattered documents around her.  She sat with her arms crossed in silence, as she had been for over an hour at this point.

To her left, she would glance and ponder the impending doom of Lyniastas, and what still might be done to bring life to his cause.

To her right, nothing but dead ends to justifying the continuation of the DOS.

In the center, Phyglithe.  The massive, foreboding tome that had naught made a sound since its recovery in the Copperbell Mines.  Brygym had insisted she not remain with it unattended, yet she made it an order he do so.  She sighed, gazing upon the metallic gold surface that shimmered in the candlelight.

Arvit did not know of this book.  It was all she had to catch him off-guard.  But where would it serve best?  To save the DOS?  To pressure him to dropping charges against Lyniastas, drawing doubt that he acted knowing he would harm her in a room with void magicks afoot?

She placed a hand on a document to her left.   _ “The list of charges against Lyniastas Rhullier:”  _ was the first line, followed by an extensive list of bullet points.  She rubbed her eyes and looked to the right.   _ “The continued unjustified behavior of the DOS - a brief summary”  _ titled another to the other side of the table.

“Are all paths condemnable here?  What have we done to incite the wrath of this man?”  She grumbled.  Just then, she heard a hearty knock at the door.  She made no sound, wishing to not be bothered.

A second knock.  She peered at the latch starting to rise.  Her hand was quick to move to her side, releasing a single button to reveal a holster with a small, wooden handle and metal trigger.  She knew to take no chances these days, especially with the book in her possession.

“L...Lalieri?” A soft male’s voice came as a hard whisper through the darkness of the door’s opening.

She knew the voice immediately, yet still hesitated to pull her hand away.  Through the door, another Lalafell appeared, it was the Immortal Flames officer that was with her the morning they gathered at the entrance of the mines.  He took notice of her hands immediately, raising his.  His pale blue eyes glistened in the candlelight, his dark, tied up hair in a neat bun.

“I’ll… ask you be at ease.  You’ve all the time in the world to come after me once we are through speaking.”

“You’ll serve me ill tidings, then?  Seems you’re only good for these nowadays.  Not that the past has served us any better, if I recall.”

“That again?  Surely, you’re one to forgive and for…” he paused, as her untrusting gaze intensified.  “Then again, I’m not one to assume.”

“You’d best be brief.” Lalieri continued.  “I’ve too much to do, and I’ll have your testimony prepared to assist tomorrow.”

“Yes, well… about that…” the Lalafell creeped to the second chair on the left, pulling it out and hoisting himself upon it.  He was in casual wear, without the banner of the Immortal Flames on his lapel.  In Ishgard, it served many to blend in, and he was no different.  “I’ve good news, and I’ve bad news.”

Lalieri sighed heavily, looking to the now flickering wicks dancing their glow on the ceiling.  She placed one elbow on the arm of her chair, resting her cheek upon her hand.  She tapped a finger with her other hand on the large table with a subtle  _ tap, tap, tap. _  “I am relying on your words to give a proper timeline to events.  I need as much as the truth to come forth as possible.  You are the proof that the book came from that same place where the alleged crime occurred.  As I still trust, the truth would make Lyniastas an innocent man.”

“I received word today that I am to represent the prosecution.” the man replied.

“Wh… Yinin, why!?” Lalieri lifted her head, making fists.  She looked at him as she had just been stabbed through her chest, her teeth exposed, gritting to his words.

“Lalieri, they, this Arvit fellow… has quite a sphere of influence.  He’s suppressed your ability to access the Twin Adder and their double murder.  He made it nigh impossible for you to to gain any record of the murder in Limsa Lominsa.  What makes you think I would be any different…?”

“Because you’re  _ you _ ! Gods, Yinin!” Lalieri threw her hands in the air.  “You were all I had left!  You…”  Her fists quivering in the air, her eyes welled up.  She sputtered a sob, bringing her fists to over her eyes, tears streaming behind them to her chin.  “You were all I had left.  All I could count on.  Is there no other way!?  Forget your rank!  Do this for  _ me! _  As your friend, as y-your...” her speech reduced to an unintelligible sob.  

“A-Aye, were that the first time you spoke those words to me… it’s no wonder.”

“D...Don’t you dare… bring that up… now…” Lalieri managed between exasperated inhales.  “How… How is this good news?  S-Seven Hells, if there’s anyone who could ever destroy me in an instant, Yinin, Gods… Gods, why is it always you…  The whole lot of this, I’ve avoided as best I can.  Watching Lyniastas get torn apart in court.  Watching my own trusted friends who tend to this room with me at each other’s throats.  Witnessing the downfall of the very thing that has an edge between Eorzea’s peace and certain destruction… we have a purpose, a duty so incredibly important to this realm now, and all that will be lost to the red tape of Arvit and the Ishgardian courts…”

Lalieri continued to sob lightly, and the conversation did not continue for a few moments.  Yinin looked down at the table, speechless.  He could not make eye contact with Lalieri, who continued to bury her head in her hands.

“Seeing you like this, it’s unbecoming,” Yinin stated after a while.  “I can tell you’re not sleeping, for one.”

“H-Hells, like it matters to you anyway…”

“It always will, despite what Hydaelyn designs for us both.”

“Go on, blame fate as you always did.  Blame our creator, blame everything and everyone but yourself.  I’ve not heard this banter in quite some time.  I suppose I’m overdue.”

Silence.

Yinin sighed after another pause.  He hopped from his seat, making for the door he entered.  He peered beyond it, nodding.  She looked up at him, with raw, pink circles around her eyes.  He gazed back in, nodding with a light smile.

“So quick to forget I said I brought good news too.  I cannot recall the last time I was able for you.”

She stared at him in wait.  With no reply, he shrugged, leaned outside of the door again, motioning to another to come inside.  He pushed the door from ajar to wide open, and in entered a young Mi’qote boy.

“Lalieri, I’d like you to meet Vina’ita.”

The boy peered nervously about the dark space.  He found Lalieri after a moment of scoping out the room, bowing quickly with a whispering, awkward “H-Hello…”

She leaned back in her seat, both elbows on the arms of the chair.  She gazed at Yinin expectantly.

“Ah, yes.  You’ll recall Fi’Teri, before diving into the Copperbell mines, was in pursuit of a young boy who claimed to have seen Meshia, the wanted one?  Well, here he is.  And goodness, he tells a story only someone like you would believe.”  Yinin nudged the boy into the room.  “He’s become quite the shy one since he believes he’s watched at all times.  I suppose being in contact with the voidsent will do that to ye.”

“You’ve seen Meshia?” Lalieri asked him, staring intently at the boy.  “Fi’Teri seemed to believe you had, but I saw no official report.  Not that I was able to ever get one from her, given she didn’t come back conscious.”

He gulped on the lump in his throat.  “Ma’am, I… I… I heard the nice lady that tried to help me was hurt in th’ mine… is that true?”

“Her life lies on a limb, yes.”

“A-And I can help if I say what I saw in the mine?”

Lalieri paused, glancing at Yinin.  He shrugged, smiling, shutting his eyes and tilting his head to the side.  “What oversight, Lalieri!  While Arvit moves to stymie your efforts and render the Immortal Flames useless to your cause, you’ve the whole story right here before you.  Sure, a formal document is good and all, but how can Arvit enforce politics on a homeless lad?  Advantage DOS, I’m certain.”

“So, you knew Arvit’s efforts would prevent you from doing anything.  You waited for his move…”  She nodded as she spoke.

“Aye.  I followed the data.  I looked for the record of what he wanted to see.  Lo and behold, while I cannot give the document to you, nor myself, would the person interviewed on it not suffice?”  Yinin let out a chuckle.

“I cannot imagine this is allowed.  They can trace this back to you, no?”  Lalieri, for the first time, appeared concerned for Yinin.

“Let them.  I wrote the file.  What can they place on me beyond I was checking my own work?”

Lalieri sighed, but for the first time, as if a light weight had been removed from her shoulders.  She looked at Vina’ita, who still glanced at every dark shadow, convinced it alluded to danger.

“Vina’ita.”

“M-Ma’am?”

“Tell me everything you saw that day.  I need to know what I can use to save our purpose.”

“S-Sure, I don’t mind and all, but… do we really need to be in th-this room?  Is there a better place?”

“I’ll make it a bit more comfortable for you, lad.”  Lalieri reached for a drawer at her side and opened it, procuring more candles.  “We’re not on the grid anymore, as the DOS is suspended, but… we can make do as we always will.”  She placed the candles on the table.

“I take it that’s my cue to leave…” Yinin turned for the door.

 

“Yinin,” Lalieri called to him.  He turned his head and body to glance her way.  Their eyes met a moment, connecting, as if igniting a spark between them.  She felt her breath fade lightly.  He felt his heartbeat hasten.  She was at a loss for words a moment.

“Thank you,” she said.  He nodded, raising a hand to wave, and moved to leave.

As he opened the door, he was hurried to the side by a larger presence.  “H-Hey!  This room is-!”

This brought Lalieri to an instant defense, her hand flying back to her holster.  Vina’ita cowered, leaping behind his chair, shaking.  A soldier clad in armor burst through the door, Yinin behind, cursing.

“Lalieri!”  A woman’s voice came through the covering iron helm’s grill in the front, which obscured the face.

“I’ll not go quietly, if you serve Arvit, I am warning you,” Lalieri snarled.

The soldier looked about the room, turning to an angry Yinin behind her, then back to Lalieri, raising her hand.  “N-No!  You’ve got it all wrong!”  She waved her hands to and fro.  “I… I come- oh Hells, one moment…”  She placed her hands on the helm, turning it slightly then raising it.  Periaux appeared, though a foreigner to Lalieri, not letting down her guard.

“Speak, Elezen.  What purpose have you here at this time of night?”

“I apologize, Lalieri, ma’am.  I just got off duty, and I’ve another in the morn, with little free time to spare…”  She reached to a small lapel at the side of her studded plate.  She fumbled with the button before groaning, and placing a hand on her forearm to release her fingers from the plate gloves.  Tossing both gloves on the table made a  _ thunk _ sound that shook the candles, causing them to dance.  Sighing, Periaux made back for the small pouch and procured a document from it.  She unfolded the messy parchment and looked back at Lalieri.

“E-Er, if I might approach, ma’am, without the threat of that sidearm…”

Lalieri sighed, easing her arms at her sides.  “Go on.”

Vina’ita did not budge from his hiding spot behind the chair.  Periaux paid him no mind walking around him and handing the document to Lalieri, who reviewed it for a few moments.  She gazed back at the confused Yinin, and waved him off, shaking her head.  He shrugged and made off.

Lalieri turned to the Elezen, gazing upon her with confusion.  “I don’t understand.  Are you not currently in service to the court?”

“I am.”

“So, this means you have overseen the proceedings involving Lyniastas Rhullier.”  She peered at her, squinting lightly, as if trying to see if her presence was but a facade.

“We grew up together, ma’am.  I’m well aware of his circumstances.”

“That explains a bit.” Lalieri looked to the document again.  “Periaux, was it?”

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid… you’re a week too late on this one.  The DOS was stripped of any sort of power to the knights due to the two cases that linger upon us.  You cannot transfer into our ranks, official documents aside… it is moot at this time.  There isn’t a soul allowed to approve such suicide.”

“Suicide!  Are you giving up, too?  Just like that good-for-nothing Lyniastas, thinking there’s no way to beat Arvit…” Periaux’s blood began to boil.  She looked upon the documents scattered across the table, then at the sizable book between them.  She blinked a few times, gazing upon it.

Lalieri was not convinced.  “G-Get away from all this!  It’s classified!  It’s, er… you can’t look!”

“This book…” Periaux continued to glance at it, peering at it from a few angles.  “It… reminds me of something.”

Lalieri stopped, glancing at Phyglithe, then back at Periaux.  “Something?”

Periaux paused a moment.  “I mean, this one is a bit different, but… I could have sworn Arvit himself donned a similar tome, but in a deep blue, not this gaudy gold thing.  The design style on the front is undeniably similar.  And the size… something so large and ornate in a binding is uncommon for text in Ishgard, save the odds and ends people find in that library in the Forelands.”

Lalieri paused, her suspicions roused by Periaux's words.  “You’re telling me… Arvit has a book just like this?”

Periaux nodded.  “No doubt.  He screamed at me for even being near it - I had entered his study one night in searching for him.  He had a detail due to his involvement in another case, and had not been found in his two-hour timeframe.  We were required to search.  That book, though… just gazing upon it, I felt an uncertain… emotion welling up in me.  It was terrifying.  Looking at this book, it just… brought me back to that moment.  Strangest thing.  I apologize.”

“Sit down.” Lalieri said to Periaux.  She pointed at the chair in front of the Elezen.

“B-Beg your pardon, ma’am?”

“Sit.  Down.”  With every syllable, she stuck her finger out further.

Periaux obliged, pulling out a chair, and slowly taking a seat.  Lalieri looked at Vina’ita.

“You too.”  She glared at Vina'ita.

He nodded, quietly sitting in the chair he was hiding behind.

“Now, I understand Periaux that you’ve a shift to tend to soon, but I’ll have you know that I don’t take no for an answer, much like anyone else you work for.  You’re going to tell us everything you know about that encounter.”

Periaux chuckled.  “Of course, that is why I came, I will help you save the DOS, I will be a part of your efforts.  Once I heard of Meshia’s fate, naught else mattered anymore.  I will not allow you to fail.”

“Well enough.  Vina’ita.  I know you’ve nothing better to do with your life.  You’re staying here indefinitely.  You’ll make yourself useful, first by telling us everything you know from the day Fi’Teri was shot.”  The boy looked down, unable to respond to Lalieri’s authority.  She took a pearl from the table, placing it in her ear.

“Brygym?  We’ve work to do.”

She paused, awaiting a reply.

“Our fate just took quite a turn.  Speak to no one.  Come immediately.”

“We really might make it."


End file.
